Spare Room
by tikvarn
Summary: "We'll probably kill each other." "Probably, but at least you'll get to sleep in a real bed." Andy gets a new roommate after moving out of Luke's. Andy/Sam.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Hey guys! I thought I'd try my hand at writing again! The idea of Sam and Andy as roommates has been bugging me for a while, so I decided to just write it out. I hope you guys will forgive me for my long absence and that you enjoy the new story! This starts at the end of 2.08 Monster.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

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><p>Andy took one final swing at Sam, nailing him right in the stomach. Sam groaned and doubled over but smirked up at her, letting her know he wasn't really hurt.<p>

"I think that's enough McNally," he said, settling down to the mats. He stretched his legs out in front of him and leaned back on his hands.

"Oh yeah," she said, still bouncing around on her feet. It felt good to be moving around, to take out all of her pent up aggression. She tapped him upside the head playfully. "Can't take anymore, old man?"

Sam narrowed his eyes at her and swung out his leg and got her right behind the knees, catching her off guard and making her topple over. She landed hard on her back on the mat beside him with a pained, "Hmmpph."

Andy lay still for a moment and then shook her head, trying to regain her bearings. She stared straight up at the ceiling as she accused, "Now, that was just mean."

"So was calling me old," Sam countered. "After all I've done for you."

Andy laughed, not making any attempt to get up from the mats. "Thanks," she said after a moment. "I needed that."

"I know," Sam said confidently, unstrapping the boxing gloves from his hands.

Andy smirked at his self-assuredness, but didn't say anything. She was still breathing heavily from their impromptu boxing match and suddenly all the energy she had built up seemed to drain away. Her legs were heavy, her arms felt like lead and her head drooped over to watch Sam.

He felt her gaze. "What?" he asked.

Andy wasn't really sure of what to say. "Nothing, just…" she trailed off, shaking her head.

Sam nodded, understanding what she was trying to convey without her having to say it. "You're welcome," he said. "I usually feel better about things after I hit something." He couldn't help but remember the time he and Luke had gone at it during retraining. It had been stupid, yes, but it had definitely felt good to take out his anger. They sat in silence for a moment, each lost in their own thoughts.

Sam coughed to clear his throat. "You're not a bad fighter."

Andy smiled at the faint praise. "Thanks. My dad's had me in self defense classes since before I can remember," she told him.

"Ah." Sam responded, rolling his neck from side to side before rubbing it with one hand. "You ready to get out of here?"

"No," Andy said, patting the mat. "I just want to stay right here. It's comfortable, I could probably even fall asleep."

"You'd regret that when you woke up with a crick in your neck and a sore back."

"I've woken up with a crick in my neck everyday for the last three weeks," Andy confessed. "Sofa beds'll do that to you."

Sam raised an eyebrow, processing the information. "You're still staying with Nash?"

"Yep," Andy confirmed with a nod. "I've found an apartment, I just can't move in until the end of the month. Almost three more weeks. Traci's been great but I know I'm just in the way. It's tough with her and her mom and Leo…" she sighed. "I think I'm going to get a hotel until the apartment's ready."

"You can't stay in a hotel McNally," Sam said immediately, rolling his eyes.

"And why not?" She challenged, feeling herself getting angry at his easy dismissal of her plan.

Sam looked her straight in the eye, not backing down even though he knew she was getting worked up. "Because," he explained slowly, "Anywhere you can afford to stay for three weeks is not going to be safe."

"Oh please," Andy snapped. "I'm a cop. I'll have my gun. I'll be fine"

Sam just shook his head throughout her argument, "Nope, Andy, no. That's not going to work."

"Well then what do you suggest I do, Sam?" Andy asked, her voice raised. "I don't have a whole lot of options."

Sam sighed and pinched the bridge of his noise. Andy could tell he wanted to say something, he was just holding back.

"What is it?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. "Out with it."

Sam exhaled heavily and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before cautiously offering, "Well, I do have a spare room." Before Andy could start to object he continued, "It has a decent bed and its own bathroom and everything."

"Oh no, Sam," Andy protested, pushing herself up to her elbows, "No."

"Why not, McNally?" He asked, his volume rising to meet hers. "You can't stay on someone's lumpy sofa for three weeks and you most definitely will not be staying in a crappy motel. I happen to have an extra room you can stay in. It's a perfectly reasonable solution."

"Don't tell me what I am and what I am not going to do," Andy warned, her eyes flashing with anger.

Sam knew he'd hit a sore spot, so he threw his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay. That's not what I'm trying to do," he said calmly, slowly. "I'm just offering. If I was Diaz or Epstein would you have a problem with it?"

Andy sighed and looked away. She knew, logically, that he was right. She couldn't really afford to stay in a hotel and she didn't want to impose on Traci anymore. And if it were Chris or Dov offering she really would be fine with it. But he wasn't Chris or Dov. He was… Sam.

"McNally," Sam said, his voice low and softer than normal.

She turned back to look at him, considering her options. She looked away again, stalling as she slowly and methodically pulled off her gloves. Eventually she spoke. "We'll probably kill each other," she said reluctantly.

Sam's lips began to twitch upwards. "Probably," he agreed, fighting the smile that threatened to break. "But at least you'll get to sleep on a real bed."

"That would be nice," Andy agreed. She rolled her eyes up to the ceiling. "Fine," she said, "I guess I'll stay with you."

"No need to act so thrilled about it McNally," Sam said sarcastically, pushing himself to his feet. "I'm the one doing you a favor," he reminded her.

"I know, I know," Andy said, accepting the hand the Sam extended to help her up. He pulled her a little too forcefully and she ended up bumping into him. Without thinking she reached her hand out to his chest to steady herself. When she realized what she had done and where her hands were, one in his hand and the other on his chest, her eyes flew up to meet his.

He just looked down at her with his cocky Sam-smirk fully in place. "And no sneaking in my room at night McNally," he teased her as she pushed away from him, laughing.

"Oh okay," she grinned, thankful he'd lightened the moment that had lasted just a little too long for her comfort. "I'll try to restrain myself." She walked over to the sofas and picked up their discarded uniform shirts, throwing his at him. "You, uh, wanna go for that breakfast now?"

Sam bit the instead of his cheek, something Andy knew he did when he was figuring something out. "You don't have a ride, do you?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

Andy laughed, "Am I that easy to read?"

"Maybe not to most people," Sam said, shrugging. He winked at her, "But I'd like to think I know you pretty well."

"Oh, you think so, do you?" She challenged. Sam just nodded, folding his arms in front of his chest and making no effort to move.

Andy ran her tongue slowly along the top of her lip. "Fine," she conceded. "I don't have a ride and I'm starving." She made a motion towards the door, "Please?" She asked. He stood his ground and she repeated in a smaller, weaker voice, "I'm hungry Sam. Food. Now. Please." She waved towards the door again for extra emphasis on each word.

Sam took pity on her and laughed, making his way towards the exit. "Fine McNally. We'll get breakfast and then we can stop by Nash's and get your stuff." He held the door open for her, "You're paying though."

"I think I can handle that," Andy agreed, moving past him. As they made their way back to the locker rooms to grab their stuff she realized that, despite her exhaustion and hunger, she felt better than she had in weeks. Maybe things were starting to change for the better.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Sam's gruff voice and she realized she had fallen a couple of steps behind him. "Hurry it up McNally," he called, not even bothering to turn to look back at her. "I'd like to get some sleep at some point today."

Well, Andy thought, oddly comforted as she hurried to catch up with her former training officer, some things changed but others stayed exactly the same.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews everyone! I'm glad you're enjoying the story.

Disclaimer: I do not own _Rookie Blue. _

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><p>Despite the amount of food that the two ordered, breakfast did not last very long.<p>

"That's really attractive," Sam commented, watching Andy shovel another forkful of pancakes into her month.

Andy glared at him. "Yeah, and you chowing down on those disgusting eggs is really sending me through the roof."

"These eggs are not disgusting," Sam defended, stabbing his fork into the last of the pile.

"I guarantee you they are from a powder," Andy said.

"I'm not picky," Sam responded, "Food is food. It all goes to the same place."

Andy rolled her eyes. "I'll make you some real eggs sometime," she promised. "You'll never want to eat those things again."

"I don't know if I trust your cooking skills," Sam said, absent-mindedly pushing leftover hash browns around his plate.

Andy's hand, which had been lifting another forkful of pancakes, paused in midair. "You don't trust my cooking? I'll have you know I am a great cook." Great may have been a little bit of a stretch, but Andy knew she could fend for herself in the kitchen. Skills like that tended to develop when your mother left you at the age of eight with a father who considered TV dinners to be acceptable, even preferable, forms of nutrition. Once she was old enough to work the stove without burning the apartment building down, Andy had started cooking for herself and her dad.

Sam grinned at her. "I guess you've got three weeks to prove it."

"I guess so," she replied, accepting the challenge. She finished the last of her pancakes and looked up at him. "You ready to go?"

"Oh, I'm ready. Are you though?" He asked, teasing. "Do we need to order another tray of breakfast carbs for you?"

"You're hilarious," Andy said, throwing her napkin down on the table. She pulled a couple of bills out of her wallet to cover the check and tip and then stood up.

"I try McNally," Sam told her, leading her out of the diner with a hand on the small of her back. "I do try."

After a quick stop by Traci's house to pick up Andy's belongings, they made their way back to Sam's house. As Andy stood behind Sam on the stoop leading up to his door, a wave of apprehension suddenly overtook her.

The last time she had been at his house had been the night of the blackout. She waited for him to unlock the door and couldn't help but think back to when she had stood on those same steps months before, waiting for him to answer the door. That night definitely hadn't gone as planned, but Andy was beginning to realize that that was to be expected.

"McNally," Sam's voice cut through the memory. She blinked and saw that he had already opened the door and was standing inside the house. "You waiting on an invitation?"

"Sorry," she apologized quickly, following him into the house. The small entryway was familiar, but beyond that Andy didn't remember much about the layout of his house. They had made a quick and maddening journey to his bedroom the last time that she was there, and her exit was just as hurried and she tried to flee as quickly as possible.

"Okay," Sam explained, grabbing two of the heavier bags in his hands and starting up the narrow staircase. "Living room, kitchen and my room are downstairs. The spare room is up here."

Andy silently followed him up the stairs, taking in the surroundings. There was a small landing at the top of the stairs with one door to the right and one door to the left.

"That's the bathroom," Sam said, pointing to one door as he entered the other. "Do you have towels?"

Andy chuckled, amused but somewhat touched that Sam worried about whether or not she had linens. She followed him into the room, "Yeah," she said, setting the bag she was carrying on the floor right inside the bedroom. "I have towels." She looked around the room. It was small but cozy, decorated simply but nicely. It definitely was much better than what Andy had been expecting, especially considering the apartment Sam had been staying in while he was undercover. "Did you, uh…" Andy waved her hand in the air, "Did you do all this?" She fought hard to suppress a grin, but was unsuccessful.

Sam glanced around the room and before looking back to her, catching on to the fact that she was teasing him. "No, I can't take credit for any of this," he told her, chuckling. "Sarah stayed here once while I was undercover. When I came back my entire house had been redone. If it was up to me there'd be a sheet over the window and mismatched blankets on the bed."

"That makes a lot more sense," Andy laughed, picking up a picture that sat on one of the nightstands. It was a picture of Sam with his arm around a pretty woman, both beaming into the camera. It was a smile Andy didn't see very often from Sam. The woman looked familiar with her dark brown hair and eyes. "Is this your sister?"

"Yep," Sam said, coming to stand beside Andy. He looked over her shoulder at the picture. "That's Sarah. You'll probably get to meet her," he said, turning to walk out of the room.

Andy set the picture down and hurried to follow him. "Why's that?"

"She's coming to the city in a couple of weeks," Sam said simply, not offering any more information. He walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "You want something to drink?" he asked, pulling out a water bottle.

"No, I'm good," Andy said, lowering herself onto one of the stools that sat at the counter separating the kitchen from the living room. "Why is she coming into town?"

Sam twisted off the top of the water bottle and took a long sip before answering. "Because."

Andy groaned. He was being difficult, purposely hiding something from her. "Because why?" He started to speak and she interrupted, "You know I'm going to find out the real reason, so you should probably just tell me."

Sam eyed her warily. "Okay," he said, finally relenting, "But let's not make a big deal about this? Deal?"

"Deal." Andy agreed, leaning forward on her elbows.

Sam sighed. "It's my birthday."

Andy perked up and her eyes widened. "Your birthday?" She asked excitedly. "When? Why didn't I know?"

"On the 24th and because I don't want people to know. Remember five seconds ago when we said we weren't going to make a big deal about this?" Sam reminded her.

Andy ignored him, continuing with her line of questioning. "How old are you going to be?"

"Old," Sam grumbled.

Andy smiled sweetly at him. "How old?" Sam glared at Andy but finally answered, his response too low for Andy to hear. "I didn't quite catch that," Andy said, cupping her hand behind her ear and leaning forward. "What was that?"

Sam rolled his eyes but repeated, louder this time, "Forty."

Andy just grinned and leaned back in her seat, crossing her arms over her chest. "We need to have a party," she declared, ideas already forming in her mind. She was almost certain she could get Oliver on board. "It's not everyday you turn forty. Over the hill."

"Absolutely not," Sam warned, walking around the counter and into the living room. "Now come on, let's get this tour over with. I want to get some sleep."

Andy hopped up and followed him, dropping the topic of his birthday for the moment. Sam stopped in front of his large entertainment center.

"Okay," he said, picking up a remote control and instructing her seriously, "these are the only buttons you will ever need to push…"

The rest of the tour didn't last very long. When Sam pointed out where his room was Andy felt her face unexpectedly flush with heat and she hoped that he didn't notice.

"That's about it," he said, clapping his hands together. He smiled and Andy noticed that he looked almost self conscious. She didn't like that look, it was so uncharacteristic of him. "It's not much but…"

Andy cut him off by placing a hand on his arm. "No, it's great," she told him. "Thank you." She grinned wryly, remembering back to a conversation they had. "You're always there when it matters."

Sam just nodded sharply, stepping away from her and breaking the contact between her hand and his arm. "I'm probably going to sleep for a couple hours," he said, moving towards his room. "Do you need anything?"

"Nope," Andy assured him, stretching her arms over her head as she moved towards the stairs. "I'm just going to unpack and then hit the sack myself." She turned to face him once more before heading up the stairs. "See you later… roomie."

Sam chuckled, "See you later, roomie."

He entered him room and closed the door. Leaning against it, he rubbed his hand down his face and muttered to himself, "Roomie." Having her so close, in his own house, was going to make for a long three weeks, he thought, stripping off his clothes as he walked to the bathroom, intent on showering before finally getting some much-needed sleep.

They slept much longer anticipated, both exhausted from staying up the night before. They woke up in time to order takeout for dinner and watch a little bit of television before deciding that since they both had to work in the morning they should probably turn in for the night.

That had been over an hour ago and Sam had yet to fall asleep. He tossed and turned in his bed for a little while longer, trying to find a comfortable position, before getting irritated and deciding to just give up. As he was swinging his legs over the side of the bed to stand he heard the television turn on.

He padded out of his room and turned the sharp corner into the kitchen. From there, he could see Andy curled up on the sofa in the living room with a carton of ice cream in her lap. The television was the only source of light and it illuminated the space with a soft blue glow.

Sam cleared his throat to make his presence known. Andy jumped at the noise and turned to look at him from her spot on the sofa. "Can't sleep?" He asked, leaning against the closest wall and folding his arms across his chest.

Andy, who had relaxed after seeing that it was him, shook her head. "Nope," she said, "I knew I shouldn't have slept that long this afternoon. Sorry, did I wake you?"

"I was up, couldn't really sleep either," Sam told her.

"Yeah." She paused. "Luke called me," she said, offering the information out of nowhere, her voice void of emotion.

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Yeah, I didn't answer it, but like an idiot I listened to the voicemail he left." Andy paused to eat a spoonful of ice cream. "It was all Andy I miss you… Andy I'm sorry… Andy, let's work this out…." She jabbed her spoon at the ice cream. "Blah blah blah."

"Sounds like the guy is having a rough time," Sam observed from his spot across the room.

Andy whipped her head around to look at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam shrugged. "He knows he messed up, big time, and now he regrets it."

"Yeah, well," Andy waved her spoon in the air to emphasize her point, "He should have thought about that before he slept with someone else."

"True," Sam agreed. "So did that phone call spur this little wallowing session?"

"I am not wallowing," Andy told him, pointing her spoon at him.

"It looks like you're wallowing," Sam countered, his lip tugging up into a teasing grin.

"Well, I'm not." Andy informed him. "I'm simply… taking necessary measures to move on." She took a big scoop of ice cream and lifted the spoon to inspect it. "I think our boxing session pushed me right through the depression stage and now I'm teetering on the brink of acceptance," she told him before licking the spoon clean. Her mouth still full, she explained, "I'm hoping the ice cream will help push me over."

"Oh yeah?" Sam asked. "How's that working out for you?"

"Not really sure yet," Andy admitted, taking another bite. "But this ice cream is really good. You want some?"

Sam opened his utensil drawer and grabbed a spoon. "Don't mind if I do," he said, pulling a bowl down from the shelf before making his way to the sofa. "Since it's my ice cream and all."

Andy smiled apologetically as Sam took a seat beside her. "Sorry," she said, scooting over to make room for him. "I'll buy some more."

"Don't worry about it," Sam assured. Andy held the carton out to him and he was about to spoon some of the ice cream into his bowl when she stopped him.

"It's better if you just eat it out of the carton," she said. Sam raised a quizzical eyebrow and she couldn't help but laugh, "I'm serious. Besides," she added, "wallowing sessions require ice cream to be eaten straight out of the carton."

"I thought this wasn't a wallowing session?" He teased, but nonetheless took a spoonful of ice cream from the carton.

Andy looked at him expectantly. "See?" She asked. "It's better, isn't it?"

Sam couldn't tell the difference one way or the other. "Oh yeah," he said, unable to keep from rolling his eyes. "It's a completely different experience."

Andy just laughed at him and scooped up some more ice cream. She was surprised at how natural the situation felt. She had kind of expected staying at Sam's to be awkward and tense, but so far it hadn't been at all. He made her feel comfortable. After a moment she spoke quietly, almost hesitantly, "Sam, you know that just because I may be sad and I'm eating a lot of ice cream on your couch," she paused, trying to figure out how to word what she wanted to say. "It doesn't mean that I'm having second thoughts about leaving him."

"I know," Sam said, nodding slowly. "And just because I tell you he's having a hard time…" he cleared his throat and stretched out to a more comfortable position, his legs resting on the coffee table in front of them. "It doesn't mean that I think you shouldn't have left him. Or," he confessed, "That I haven't considered multiple methods of hurting him for what he did."

"I know," Andy said, echoing his words. They shared a small smile of understanding before turning their attention back to the television.

After watching the characters on the screen for less than a minute, Sam turned to Andy. "What is this that we're watching?"

Andy stared intently at the television, refusing to turn to look at him. "The Wedding Singer."

"Interesting choice," Sam observed.

"It's the only thing on and it's funny," Andy said defensively. She gestured towards the stack of DVDs that sat next to the TV, all presumably rejected. "And it's not like I had much else to choose from."

"Well," Sam apologized sarcastically, "I'm sorry my collection isn't up to your standards."

Andy just "hmmed" and set the ice cream carton on the coffee table. She settled back into the cushions of the sofa, pulling the blanket that had been lying over her legs up to her chin.

"You know, I'm not so sure I'm comfortable with this," Sam said, stretching his arm across the back of the couch.

Andy glanced over at him. "What?"

"Well," Sam explained, a lazy grin spreading across his face, "You've been here less than a day and I'm already eating ice cream and watching chick flicks."

"Need I remind you," Andy bantered back easily, "that you're the one that had cookie dough ice cream in his freezer."

Sam shook his head, chuckling, "Just watch the movie."

Andy glanced at her watch. "We're really going to regret this in about… oh, six hours," she told him.

"Well, my DVD collection may be lacking but I've got plenty of coffee McNally," Sam assured her with a wink before they both turned their attention back to the movie.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: Thank you for all the reviews! I love writing Sam and Andy and I'm so glad you guys are enjoying this story.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

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><p>Andy groaned and covered her head with a pillow when her alarm went off the next morning. She and Sam had stayed up way too late the night before and the very few hours of sleep that she had gotten could hardly be considered "restful". She seriously considered hitting the snooze button and going back to sleep but somehow in her still-dreamy state she remembered that she set the alarm to allow for the most amount of sleep while still having time to shower and look presentable for work.<p>

The incessant, annoying beeping just got louder and more frequent so Andy finally summoned the energy to reach over and turn it off. She groaned once more and then reluctantly climbed out of the warm bed, planning to head straight for the shower. However, as she was grabbing her towel she caught a whiff of freshly brewed coffee and decided that caffeine was exactly what she needed to start her morning.

Pulling a cozy robe around her body, Andy slowly descended the stairs to the main floor, somehow managing to not stumble down the steps. She entered the kitchen to find Sam standing there, barefoot and bare-chested, pouring coffee into two large mugs that sat on the counter. His hair was smushed to one side of his head and day old stubble sprinkled his jaw line.

Sam barely acknowledged her presence with grunt before shoving a full mug into her hands and walking past her, heading back to his room. "Good morning," she called after him, earning another unintelligible grunt. "Thank you!" Instead of a reply she heard his door slam shut and, despite her exhaustion, Andy couldn't help but laugh as she took a sip of the steaming coffee. If possible, Sam was even less of a talker and more of a grump in the morning than he was during the rest of the day. Since she knew his bad mood wasn't directed at her, she actually found it kind of adorable.

She took her coffee back upstairs to get ready for the day. After showering, pulling her hair up and throwing on some fresh clothes, Andy almost felt like a person again. She made sure her uniform was in her workbag and then headed downstairs with only a few minutes to spare before they needed to leave.

Andy was met with the same scene she had come upon earlier that morning- Sam standing at the kitchen counter pouring coffee. This time, however, he was clean-shaven and fully dressed. "Morning," he greeted, his voice still gruff. "You want some for the road?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," Andy replied. She rocked back and forth on her heels impatiently, waiting for him to finish up. "Your hair looks good," she said, pointing at his head and moving her finger up and down. "More even. Not quite so flat on the left side. It kind of swooshes up in the front nicely…"

Sam shot her a wary glance. "My hair swooshes?"

"Yeah," Andy said, making a swooshing motion with her hand in front of her face, "It kind of, you know… swooshes…"

"You done?" He asked, interrupting her awkward rambling.

"Yep," she answered quickly, clasping her hands in front of her.

"Here," Sam said, handing her a travel mug and moving towards the front door. "Let's go."

Andy followed him out to the truck and settled in for the ride to the station. After a brief argument about which radio station to listen to, they rode in a comfortable silence until Sam pulled into the parking lot.

"Oh crap," Andy mumbled under her breath.

Sam's eyes darted around the lot until they settled on the person he assumed was responsible for the outburst. "Let me guess, Luke?" He asked, watching as the blonde detective pulled his briefcase from the backseat of his car.

"Yeah," she slouched down in the seat, hoping to avoid being seen as they drove past him. She knew how it would look for her and Sam to be arriving to work together.

Sam parked the truck but left the engine running. "You don't want him to know you're staying with me?"

Even though he played it off well, Andy caught the trace amount of hurt that was laced in his words. As much as she did not look forward to dealing with Luke when he found out she was staying with Sam, she couldn't handle Sam thinking that she was ashamed or embarrassed about it. Not after all that he had done for her. "No, you know what?" she said, sitting back up in her seat and undoing her seatbelt, "Screw it. Who cares what Luke thinks?"

"It's okay Andy," Sam said, resting a hand on top of hers to stop her hasty exit from the truck. "I get it. Let's just wait for him to get inside."

"No," Andy said, pulling her hand out from under his. She opened her door and climbed out. "We aren't doing anything wrong," she told Sam once he had turned off the engine and joined her in front the truck.

"I know that and you know that," Sam said, walking briskly in the chilly morning air. "However, we don't have to flaunt it in front of your ex-fiancé."

"I'm not flaunting it," she argued, trying to convince herself as much as she was him, "I'm just not going to hide it."

"Your call McNally." Sam said with a shrug, ambivalent to her decision.

The two passed Luke, who had stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Andy getting out of Sam's truck. "Andy," he called after her, hurrying to catch up with the pair. "Andy, wait up."

Andy groaned inwardly but slowed her pace. She told Sam she would see him inside and then waited for Luke to reach her. "Luke," she greeted him civilly.

"You uh," he nodded towards Sam's retreating figure, "You get a ride with Swarek this morning?"

Andy's face scrunched together as she squinted into the bright morning sun to look up at him. "That's not really any of your concern, is it?" She asked, not unkindly.

Luke sighed, knowing he was in no position to argue with her. "You didn't return any of my phone calls last night."

"I know," she admitted. "I'm sorry. I just don't really have anything to say."

They had almost reached the entrance to the station, so Luke grabbed Andy's arm to keep her outside for another moment. "I just think that we need to talk at some point Andy."

"We have talked Luke," she said, gently pulling her arm away from him, "And I really don't have time for this right now. I have to get to work." With a sad smile, she turned away walked through the sally port into the station, leaving him alone on the sidewalk.

The women's locker room was mostly cleared out by the time she got there. She hurriedly changed into her uniform before heading to the parade room. Best was just about to start as she slide into the seat next to Traci, whispering a quiet, "Good morning."

Traci returned the greeting and then pointedly glanced by at Sam, who was sitting a couple of rows behind them with Oliver. "How was your night?" She asked discretely, leaning in close to Andy.

Andy shot her a confused look. "It was fine," she said, "Why?"

Traci shrugged, turning her attention back to Best. "No reason. Just wondering how it was with Sam."

"It was fine," Andy repeated, keeping her gaze forward.

"What'd you guys do?" Traci asked innocently. "Color-code his t-shirt collection?"

Andy snorted with laughter but tried to cover it up with a cough when Gail sent her a nasty look. "No," she said, recovering, "We ate ice cream and watched a movie."

"Oh," Traci raised an eyebrow. "That sounds very cozy."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You… Swarek… all alone, cuddled up on the couch together, watching a movie," she said, putting air quotes around the phrase "watching a movie." She looked at Andy knowingly. "I know how it is."

Best must have heard the two women talking because he sent a significant look their way. When he turned to write something on the white board Andy whispered, "It's not like that."

"Oh, I'm sure it's not," Traci agreed, a small smile on her lips.

Unbeknownst to Andy, Sam and Oliver were having a very similar conversation behind her.

"Was that McNally I saw getting out of your truck this morning?" Oliver asked when Sam sat down beside him.

"Yep," Sam said, not offering any more information. He concentrated his attention towards the front of the room, studiously ignoring the prying eyes of his friend.

Oliver knew what Sam was trying to do and he wasn't going to let him get away with it. "Did you pick her up at her dad's place?"

"Nope," Sam answered, clearly wanting Oliver to drop the topic.

"Nash's?" Oliver asked, undeterred.

"Nope."

Oliver tried a different tactic. "So you found her walking on the street and decided to give her a ride?"

Sam continued to avoid answering the real question he knew Oliver wanted to ask. "No."

"Let me guess," Oliver joked sarcastically, "She somehow teleported herself into the passenger seat of your truck. That's incredible."

Sam groaned and rolled his eyes, but turned to face his friend. "Andy's staying with me for a little while," he confessed.

Even though he had been suspecting that to be the case, Oliver dropped his jaw dramatically at the revelation. "She is?"

"Could you keep your voice down?" Sam grumbled, glancing at the officers surrounding them. He lowered his voice, "It's not exactly common knowledge."

"If you two keep showing up together it will be soon enough," Oliver informed him. "So is it like… official now?"

"Is what official?" Sam asked, purposefully acting naive.

Oliver gave Sam his best 'don't be stupid' look, one that he usually saved to use on the rookies. "You and McNally," he clarified, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"It's not like that," Sam told him, "She just needs a place to stay until her new apartment is ready."

"Oh," Oliver said, raising an eyebrow. "And you expect me to believe nothing's going on?"

"Nothing is going on," Sam bit out. "She's staying in the guest room." The door beside them swung open and Luke walked into the parade room. He leaned against the wall next to Sam and Oliver, crossing his arms in front of him. Sam shot a pointed look at Oliver, letting him know that the discussion was over.

Oliver just shook his head in disbelief and frustration. "You are absolutely…" he shook his head again before finishing, "Unbelievable."

Sam smirked at him but said nothing in response. Best wrapped up parade and dismissed them with his customary "Serve and Protect" slogan of the day.

"We are not done talking about this," Oliver all but hissed at him as they rose from their seats.

Sam just patted Oliver on his shoulder, "Whatever you say buddy," he said, moving around him to join Andy as she walked towards the door.

Andy felt a warm presence by her side and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that it was Sam. She gave a silent prayer of thanks that she was paired with him for the day. Her head was already pounding from not getting enough sleep and the early morning conversations with Luke and Traci only added to the dull, persistent ache. "I'm going to need some more coffee to make it through this day," Andy admitted to Sam as they made their way through the station.

Sam, also not feeling well and fresh off his conversation with Oliver, responded, "I couldn't agree more, McNally. I could not agree more."


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone who is reading this and to everyone who is reviewing. I was reminded in a review from the last chapter that these stories are just as much for you guys as they are for me. It's true- while I love writing and I'm a big fan of Sam and Andy, most of my motivation comes from knowing others are enjoying the story as well. You may not think that a few words of encouragement means a great deal to writers, but it really does. I am so appreciative of the readers that I have. Thank you. With that said... I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

* * *

><p>They were called to a gang shooting at High Park and had spent most of their shift collecting evidence and witness statements. Much to Andy's dismay, Luke was there because it was a multiple homicide. She spent a good deal of time studiously ignoring his sad and pleading eyes.<p>

Andy and Dov, the only two rookies at the scene, had been assigned to search a cluster of bushes for shell casings. "He keeps staring at you," Dov told her, eyeing the detective. "It's kind of weird. And creepy."

Andy looked up and glanced over at Luke before replying, "He'll get over it."

"I don't know," Dov said, "It's been what…?"

"Four weeks," Andy answered, pulling up a clump of weeds. She felt a bug on her neck and slapped it away, irritated.

"Four weeks," Dov repeated, "And he's still getting trashed at the Penny every night? And where did Jo go?" He kicked a pile of dirt to the side before bending over to move a rock out of the way. "It's like she just vanished."

"She didn't vanish, she went back to her old division," Andy said, not wanting to get into why Jo had left.

"Well, you really did a number…" he stopped midsentence, reaching down to pick up a shiny metal object. "Got it!" He exclaimed, holding the casing between his purple-gloved fingers.

"Excellent," she muttered, watching him walk back to the main group with the shell held up like a trophy. Normally she liked talking to Dov. He was funny and a good friend, but right then she did not want to talk about Luke to him, or to anyone for that matter. She was fairly certain everyone knew what happened, but that didn't mean that she was ready to openly discuss it.

She continued to search through the bushes, flicking away bugs ever so often, until Sam called out to her. "McNally," he said, walking towards her. "We need to go back to the station."

Andy stood up and brushed the dirt off of her pants. "Why?"

"Shaw just brought four guys in," Sam told her, reaching out to brush some dirt she had missed off of her back. "Callaghan wants us to separate them and get their stories."

"Sounds good," Andy said, following him to their squad car.

Luke clenched his jaw as he watched the brief scene unfold. There was a familiarity between the partners, an easiness in their interaction, that made Luke's stomach tighten. When he saw Sam reach for Andy he expected her to back away but instead she had almost leaned into him, totally comfortable with him touching her. Luke knew he should turn away and focus on the job at hand, but he kept his eyes on Andy until she and Swarek had driven out of sight.

The detective was broken out of his trance when a CSU officer called out to him. "Sir," the officer said, "I think you may want to take a look at this."

Luke sighed and tried to push all thoughts of Andy out of his mind.

When their shift was over, Andy and Sam dropped by a Chinese restaurant to pick up takeout before going home. They had both begged off invites to the Penny, Andy because she was still avoiding people and Sam because he didn't want to continue his conversation with Oliver.

He knew that Oliver wasn't going to give up and that at some point they'd have to talk, he was just going to postpone it as long as possible. The truth was, he had no idea what to say to his friend because he had no idea what was going on with Andy. She was fresh off of her break up with Callaghan and the last thing he wanted to do was take advantage of her vulnerable emotional state.

He had decided long ago not to push her, to let her figure things out for herself. He knew that deep down, somewhere in her subconscious, she knew how he felt about her. She had to be the one who decided when she was ready.

They ate dinner in front of the television, watching a hockey game.

"I love hockey," Andy declared, putting down her empty carton of food. She brought her feet up beneath her and pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa, wrapping it around herself.

Sam poked around his carton with his chopsticks, searching for the last piece of chicken. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Andy nodded. "They show up, they skate, they get to hit people. No one expects them to…" she paused and then huffed, "Talk."

Sam glanced over at her, concerned. "You okay?"

Andy sighed, "Yeah, I'm fine."

"You don't sound fine," Sam countered.

"Well I am," she insisted unconvincingly. "I'm fine."

Sam shrugged, turning back to the television, "Fine."

"I don't want to talk about it."

Sam raised an eyebrow, "That's a first."

Andy smirked at him but didn't respond. They sat quietly, comfortably, watching the game. Sam picked at his food some more before deciding he was done and setting the carton down. He grabbed their fortune cookies from the takeout bag, handing Andy's to her without a word.

Sam cracked his cookie open and read the fortune, chuckling softly. Andy looked over at him. "What does yours say?" She asked.

"You first," Sam said, tossing part of the cookie up and catching it in his mouth.

Andy rolled her eyes, but opened her fortune up and read it aloud. "Beware, you have a yearning for perfection and will be disappointed when it is not reached."

"In bed." Sam finished for her.

Andy's eyes widened. "What?"

"You're supposed to follow your fortune with the words "in bed"," Sam told her. He shot her a look of disbelief. "How have you never heard of that before?"

"I have, I just…" she hesitated, "Didn't think you had."

"Because I'm old?" Sam asked.

"No," Andy tried to explain, "It just seems kind of silly, that's all."

"It's funny," Sam shrugged.

"Well what does yours say?"

Sam opened his fortune, "You will soon experience new and exiting things."

"In bed," Andy finished, laughing.

Sam looked over at her and waggled his eyebrows. "So, McNally…" he said, cutting his eyes over to his bedroom.

Andy knew he was teasing her, but she couldn't stop herself from blushing. "Sam!" She exclaimed, laughing as she swatted him on the arm.

Sam chuckled along with her. When their laughter died down, Andy yawned. "I think I'm going to go take a shower and then go to bed. I'm beat."

"At least we don't have to work tomorrow," Sam said, gathering the trash off the coffee table. "You can sleep in."

Andy stood and stretched her arms over her head. "Thank goodness," she said. She reached out to take the empty cartons from Sam. "Here, I can get those."

Sam waved her off. "I've got it."

"You going to bed?"

He pointed at the television, "I'm just going to finish the game first."

"Alright, well…" she smiled, shifting from one foot to the other. "Goodnight Sam."

He returned her smile, one corner of his mouth tugging up higher than the other. "Goodnight Andy."

Later that night, Andy awoke with a start. She glanced around, trying to get her bearings, before fumbling for her phone on the bedside table. The glowing numbers told her it was almost three in the morning. Andy groaned and rolled back over, intending to go back to sleep. She still had plenty of time before she needed to be up.

For some reason she couldn't go back to sleep. The house was dark and peaceful but she couldn't shake the fact that something just didn't feel right. After unsuccessfully trying to ignore the feeling, she threw the covers off and climbed out of bed. She grabbed her robe and tied it around her waist before heading downstairs.

Andy padded into the kitchen and scanned her eyes over it and the living room. Nothing looked amiss. She checked the patio door and found it locked securely.

She shook her head, wondering why she was being so paranoid, and was about to head back upstairs when something outside caught her attention.

From the living room she could see into the alley where Sam usually parked his truck. It wasn't there.

Alarmed, Andy went to the front door and looked out, thinking that maybe he had parked on the street and she just didn't remember.

His truck wasn't there either.

Andy groaned. If Sam's truck had been stolen he was going to be pissed. He loved that thing.

She debated whether or not to wake him up and decided that of course she should. Bracing herself to deal with whatever mood he may be in, she walked over to his bedroom.

The door was cracked so she poked her head inside. "Sam," she whispered, knocking softly. When she didn't get a response she called his name again, louder this time, and rounded the wall that blocked his bed from view.

The bed was messy, like it had been slept in, but Sam wasn't there.

Before going into full panic mode, Andy called his name one more time, loudly. "Sam!" she all but yelled, patting her hands over the mattress as if he could somehow be hiding beneath the blanket that covered the bed.

She stood straight up and took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. There could be any number of explanations as to why Sam wasn't there.

Maybe he woke up and really wanted a snack, so he had to run to the store.

That was dumb. There was plenty of food in the kitchen.

Maybe he needed medication and couldn't wait 'til morning to get it.

She didn't think that was it.

Maybe he was with a woman.

Andy's stomach unexpectedly twisted at the thought, and she quickly pushed it out of her mind. There was no way he was with someone, she would have known about it. Unless, of course, he had been keeping it from her.

Andy tried to explain away his absence, telling herself that he was a grown man and he could come and go as he pleased.

She just couldn't get rid of that nagging feeling that something was wrong. If he wasn't with someone, and she felt fairly certain he wasn't, he was probably doing something dangerous that he didn't want to tell her about.

Andy left his room and checked the downstairs one more time, calling his name. She went back up to her room and grabbed her cell phone off the bed, debating whether or not to call him.

On one hand, she was just his temporary roommate and really didn't deserve an explanation as to his whereabouts. On the other hand, she was his partner and if she had pulled something like this, disappearing in the middle of the night without a word, she had no doubt Sam would have the entire division out looking for her.

Her mind made up, she dialed the familiar number and listened to it ring once, twice, three times. After the fourth ring his voicemail picked up.

"Sam," She said, trying to keep her voice from shaking, "This is Andy. I uh…I woke up and you obviously aren't here." She paused for a beat, unsure of what to say. "Can you just call me please when you get this and let me know you're okay? Thanks. Okay, bye."

Andy tried to tell herself that he was fine and that she should go back to sleep, but it was useless. She kept tossing and turning, thinking of all the outrageous reasons Sam could be gone and all the dangerous situations he could have gotten himself in. She gave up and went back downstairs, curling up on the sofa to wait for him. Eventually her exhaustion from the previous week caught up with her and she couldn't hold her heavy eyelids open any longer.

Dawn was just breaking when Sam made it home. He entered the house as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb Andy. He had gotten her message nearly three hours after she had left it and he hoped that she had already gone back to sleep.

Sam closed the front door and locked it, flinching at the noise that seemed to echo off the walls. He wanted to get some water before cleaning up, so he made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen.

He found Andy asleep on the sofa in the living room, clutching her phone in one hand.

Sam smiled at the sight, a mixture of guilt and happiness. He'd listened to her voicemail when he'd gotten back to his truck and while he felt terrible for making Andy worry, he couldn't help feeling a little bit pleased that she cared.

He shook her foot gently to wake her up. "Andy," he called softly, not wanting to scare her.

Andy stirred awake. She blinked rapidly, trying to adjust her eyes to the bright morning light that was streaming in from the windows. When she saw Sam standing at her feet she sat straight up. "Where did you go?" she asked, her voice still hoarse with sleep.

"I had to run an errand for a friend," Sam said simply, not offering any more information.

"During the middle of the night?" Andy questioned, knowing she wasn't getting the full story. Sam didn't say anything as he lowered himself to sit on the coffee table in front of her. As he slid his jacket off she noticed the bulge at the back of his pants.

She narrowed her eyes, "With your gun?" She knew he had been doing something dangerous. Reaching out to feel for what she knew was under his shirt, she added, her voice getting slightly more hysterical, "And your vest?"

Sam removed the gun and checked the safety before setting it down on the table. He hesitated for a moment, stalling by rubbing a hand over his face and sighing, but then admitted, "Boyd called me."

"What did he want?" Andy asked, her nose involuntarily scrunching with disgust at the mention of the undercover officer.

Sam yanked his t-shirt over his head and then pulled off his vest, setting it beside the gun. "Sometimes I help him out with operations they're running. Just small stuff here and there, " he said, untucking the white undershirt he still wore before leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "I know some of the people they're going after pretty well."

Andy was silent, nodding slowly as she processed the information.

"I haven't told you about it because the fewer people that know, the better," Sam offered, knowing she would ask. Andy was chewing on her bottom lip, a habit that she had when she was anxious, and he wanted to stop her. Instead he sat quietly, letting her lead the conversation.

After a tense moment Andy asked, "How long have you been helping him out?"

"Since the Landry deal," Sam told her.

Andy sucked in a sharp breath. He'd been doing this, going out in the middle of the night and who knows when else, for months without telling her. She wanted to scream but she forced herself to calmly ask, "What did you help him with last night?"

Sam pursed his lips but answered honestly, "I went to talk with an informant I knew from when I was undercover."

"Does this have anything to do with Anton Hill?"

"He's part of it," Sam told her, "but he's not the main target."

Andy knew he probably couldn't tell her who the real target was, so she didn't even ask. "Does Frank know about this?"

Sam nodded and then cracked a grin to lighten the mood. "Of course he does. It's legitimate, Andy," he said, chuckling at what she was implying. "I'm not a dirty cop."

Andy did not appreciate being laughed at. She reached out and smacked him on the knee, hard. "Don't laugh at me, you jerk," she said defensively. "When I woke up and you weren't here and you weren't answering your phone…." She trailed off, letting him infer the rest. "It's not funny. You'd be so pissed at me if I did something like that."

She hit him again for good measure.

Still chuckling, Sam reached out and placed a hand on Andy's waist. He hadn't given much thought to the comforting gesture, but when he realized how close he was to her, he sobered. "I'm fine, Andy," he promised, squeezing her gently.

They held each other's gaze, both acutely aware of their physical proximity and the intimacy of the moment. Andy suddenly reached forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him to her. Her anger, which had been fueled by her concern for him, slowly dissipated as she whispered into his shoulder, "I was worried about you."

Sam was more caught off guard by her admission than he was by the hug. Recovering quickly, he widened his knees and pulled her even closer. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, rubbing his hand up and down her back. "I thought I'd get home before you even woke up."

Andy pulled away just enough to look at him. She tangled her fingers through the short hair at the base of his head. "Not to sound like a nag or anything, but could you at least leave a note next time?"

Sam grinned and brought one hand forward to push her hair off her face. "I can probably do that," he agreed.

Andy nodded sharply before tightening her arms around him again. "Good."

They stayed like that for another minute, maybe two, neither quick to end the embrace and both enjoying comfort of the other's arms.

"Where did you meet this informant?" Andy finally asked, gently pushing Sam away. "In the sewer?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked.

"No offense," Andy said, wrinkling her nose, "but you stink."

Sam laughed and stood up, sniffing his t-shirt. "This is what a man smells like Andy," he defended himself with a good-natured grin. "A man."

"Uh-huh," Andy agreed, giggling, her anger gone.

"Not that pretty boy stuff Callaghan wears," Sam said, stripping the white undershirt over his head.

Andy laughed, standing up from the couch. "Well, I'm going to make breakfast." She moved around Sam and walked to the kitchen. "If you'll take a shower I'll consider making you some, too."

"Deal," Sam said, returning his gun to the lock box in the hallway closet and hanging his vest inside.

Andy had the refrigerator door open and was hidden behind it, pulling out whatever ingredients she needed to make breakfast. When Sam called her name she poked her head around it and he watched as she gave his bare chest an appreciative glance. When her gaze rose to meet his he winked at her. "You sure you're not the one that needs a shower? A cold one, maybe?"

Andy's face flushed with color. "Shut up," she demanded, slamming the refrigerator door and spinning away from him.

He called her name again and she reluctantly turned to face him. As soon as she did he threw the dirty undershirt at her, hitting her right in the face. "Oh, gross!" Andy exclaimed, disgusted, quickly batting the offensive object to the floor. She heard Sam laughing as he made his way towards the bedroom. "Sam!"


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: Wow, you guys sure know how to make a girl feel special! The response to the last chapter was just incredible and really overwhelming. Thank you so, so much. I hope that you all will continue to read the story and enjoy it.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

* * *

><p>"Sam," Andy called, rapping on his bedroom door. "Can I come in?"<p>

It was early in the morning the next day and they were both getting ready to go into work. Andy stood with a coffee mug in one hand, waiting for him to answer.

She heard a vague noise that sounded like an affirmative response, so she pushed the door open and walked in.

Sam was standing in the small bathroom attached to his room, brushing his teeth. His hair was still wet and he was clad in only a towel, which was wrapped loosely around his waist.

Andy was not expecting that particular state of undress. She stopped abruptly, her coffee almost spilling over the side of the mug, her eyes widening in surprise.

Momentarily transfixed, she watched as a single water droplet fell from his hair and trailed a winding path over his shoulders and down his back. The droplet's journey ended where the towel began, the white terry cloth clinging to his firm, round…

"You need something or are you just going to stand there and stare?" Sam asked, spitting out toothpaste into the sink.

Andy shook her head slightly, realizing with a start that she had been ogling him. Well, Andy rationalized without remorse, she was a woman and he was one very handsome, almost-naked man. Nothing wrong with noticing and appreciating what was right in front of you.

"McNally," Sam called again, breaking her out of her daze.

"Oh, yeah," she stuttered, moving further into the room. "I need your opinion."

"Bagels," Sam answered, rinsing off his toothbrush before replacing it in the medicine cabinet.

"What?"

"I want bagels for breakfast. There's a place we can stop on the way to work." He glanced over at her for the first time since she had entered the room and then looked confused. "What are you wearing?"

"Okay, well," Andy stammered, "That's actually what I wanted your opinion about, not breakfast food." She opened her arms wide, letting him look her up and down. "Is this too sexy?"

She stood before him in a simple brown wrap dress that she had hastily pulled on over her pajamas.

"No, I think the flannel pajama pants take the sexy right out of it," Sam deadpanned, turning away from her. He pulled his shaving cream and razor out of the cabinet.

"Obviously I won't be wearing the pajama pants, Sam. I just meant," she gestured to her cleavage area, "Is it too low cut?"

"He's seen you naked McNally," Sam said, slathering on the shaving cream, "I guarantee you he remembers what they look like."

"I know," Andy said, tugging at the neckline of her dress. "I just don't want to remind him."

"Then wear a turtleneck," Sam advised, leaning closer to the mirror as he started to shave.

"Can you be serious, please?" Andy asked, getting frustrated.

Sam sighed and turned to face her. He studied the dress for a moment and then, prompted by Andy's annoyed eyebrow raise, answered, "No, it's not too sexy." He paused and then added, "You look nice."

"Well thank you," Andy said, curtseying slightly. "Was that so hard?"

Sam just rolled his eyes in response and returned to shaving.

Andy sat on the end of Sam's bed and took a sip of coffee. "I don't know why I agreed to this," she said, watching as Sam got ready.

They had spent the day before around the house, doing laundry and just generally being lazy. When Andy had first suggested a game of poker Sam had smirked and declined.

"I understand," Andy had challenged him. "I wouldn't want to lose to me either."

She was baiting him, and he knew it, but after considering his other options of sitting on the sofa or doing another load of laundry, he'd unenthusiastically agreed.

Andy clapped her hands with excitement as he pulled out the cards and poker chips. She grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and then joined him at the kitchen table.

"Five-card draw?" Sam asked, shuffling the cards.

"Please," Andy smirked indignantly, "that's for amateurs. Texas hold 'em."

"There's only two of us," Sam reminded her.

"So we'll switch off being dealer," Andy suggested. "Unless, of course, you're scared."

"Big talk," Sam said, setting down a stack of chips in front of her. "You wanna put some money where that mouth is?"

Andy just grinned, picking up the chips and letting them slowly fall back into a stack on the table.

They had played a few hands when Sam noticed that Andy's phone kept vibrating and she kept silencing it, not answering whoever kept calling.

He studied her for a long moment before offering, "Let's spice things up a little bit. Sweeten the pot."

"I'm not taking my clothes off," Andy informed him.

"Uh, as much as I would enjoy that," Sam admitted, "It's not what I had in mind."

Andy raised an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue.

"I win and you answer your phone," Sam said. "You win, you don't have to answer."

"I don't want to talk to him," Andy stated simply, gathering the cards from the table.

"Look, Andy, you're going to have to at some point," Sam told her. "You might as well get it over with."

Andy sighed and then whined, "But I don't want to."

Sam grinned and took the cards from her. "Then you'd better win."

She'd lost and, staying true to her word, answered the phone the next time Luke called. It had been an awkward, stilted conversation and when Luke had asked her to go to dinner with him the next night she'd agreed just to get off the phone.

The next morning she was regretting that decision.

Sam rinsed his razor before lifting it back up to his face. "Because," he recited automatically, "the sooner you get it over with the better."

"I know," Andy sighed. She bit her lip and then said, "I kind of have a favor to ask of you."

"I'm not surprised."

"You can say no if you want," she assured him.

"What is it Andy?" He asked, patting his freshly shaven face with a clean hand towel.

She looked up at him with pleading eyes, "Can I take your truck tonight?"

Sam groaned and tossed the hand towel on the counter.

"Please," Andy begged, standing up. "I don't want to have to ride in the same car as him and I want to be able to escape if need be." She walked over to him until she stood about half a step away. Feeling a surge of confidence she reached out with one hand and touched his chest, trailing her finger through the fine hairs down to his navel.

Sam stood perfectly still while her hand wandered down his chest. When she stopped and her eyes drifted up to meet his he grinned down at her, "By all means, keep going."

He'd called her bluff and she pulled her hand away, but stayed where she was. "Please," she asked again, her voice hopeful.

"Fine," Sam agreed, exhaling heavily. "Of course you can. Now," he settled his hand on the knot of his towel, "I need to get dressed so unless you… "

Andy interrupted him. "Thank you," she said, grinning as she spun out of the bathroom. "I'll buy the bagels."

Sam just chuckled. He loosened his towel and, in one fluid motion, flicked his wrist, snapping it towards Andy. It landed perfectly, popping her right on the behind.

"Ow!" She cried out, more out of surprise than pain. The dress she wore, not to mention the flannel pajama pants, dulled the sting. Andy refused to turn around, knowing what she would find if she did. Rubbing her backside, she laughed and whimpered her way out of his room.

As Andy had suspected, the dinner was uncomfortable.

Luke was already at the Italian restaurant by the time she was able to clean up after her shift and drive over. He stood when she got to the table and moved to pull her seat out for her, but she sat down before he had a chance.

Swallowing hard, he sat back down and began looking over the menu.

They were silent as they decided what to eat. It was a tense silence, both waiting anxiously for the other to say something. Andy was content to let Luke speak first since he was the one that kept telling her they needed to talk.

The waiter came and took their orders. After handing over his menu, Luke smiled at her. "Do you remember this place?"

Andy glanced around. "Our first date," she said emotionlessly.

"Yep," Luke confirmed, pleased that she had remembered. "Good memories." Andy shot him a look of incredulity and his smile faded.

They made small talk until the food arrived. Luke asked how her day had been and she offered a few details to keep the conversation going. He didn't ask about anything personal, wisely avoiding the topic of where she was staying or, more importantly, whom she was staying with.

Their food arrived and conversation ceased while they ate. Even though her dinner looked and smelled delicious, Andy couldn't bring herself to do more than pick at it.

Luke noticed her apparent lack of appetite. "Isn't that your favorite?" He asked, pointing his fork at her lasagna.

"Yeah, it is," Andy half-heartedly admitted.

"Is something wrong with it?" Luke persisted. "Is it cold?"

"No, it's great. I'm just not very hungry is all," Andy said. She took a small bite to appease him.

Luke accepted her answer with a nod. "So," he asked hesitantly, "How are you doing?"

Andy felt her muscles stiffen, but she forced herself to relax. "I'm fine."

"I mean, how are you really doing," Luke paused and waved his hand around, "With everything?"

"With everything… what?" Andy asked, her forehead wrinkling.

Luke cleared his throat. She wasn't going to make this easy on him. He clarified, "I mean, how are you doing with everything that happened?"

Andy put her fork down and then clasped her hands in front of her, setting them on the table. "You mean, how am I doing since you slept with another woman while we were engaged?"

Luke felt his face flush with heat, but answered calmly, "Yes."

"Ah." Andy shrugged and then repeated her words from earlier, "I'm fine."

"You're… fine." Luke stammered in disbelief.

Andy nodded. "Yep."

Luke cleared his throat and looked down at the table. Andy noticed that his fists were clenched with frustration. "That's just great Andy."

"What would you like for me to say, Luke?" she asked, getting annoyed.

"I just want you to be honest with me," he responded. "I think we can at least give each other that."

"Oh," Andy said, her eyebrows flying up, "You mean like you were honest with me about whether or not you still had feelings for Jo? Is that the kind of honesty you're looking for?"

"I do not have feelings for Jo," Luke told her, his words clipped. "I don't care about Jo, I care about you."

"Well that just makes it so much better!" Andy exclaimed sarcastically. "You threw away our relationship, our engagement, for someone you don't even care about!"

"No, that's not… " Luke paused, searching for the right words. "I'm sorry, that's not what I meant."

"What did you mean?" She challenged.

Luke took a deep breath. "I love you, Andy." She fought to keep from rolling her eyes. "I do, I love you. And I am so, so sorry."

"I know you're sorry," Andy conceded, her voice softer, "But that doesn't change what you did."

"I know it doesn't. I just hoped that since you've had a chance to cool off…"

"Cool off?" Andy interrupted. She could feel her anger rising again. "You think I just needed time to cool off? That I'd shoot a few hoops and I'd be fine?"

"You know what I mean."

"No," she retorted, "I don't think I do. Did you think I was just going to get over it and that everything would be okay?"

"I was hoping," Luke replied, his voice rising to match hers, "That you would be able to forgive me." He paused for half a beat and then, "Just like I forgave you."

Andy's eyes narrowed. "How dare you."

"You weren't exactly perfect either Andy," Luke accused.

"I never slept with anyone when I was with you."

"No," Luke allowed. "But you almost did, didn't you?"

Andy was about to respond when the waiter approached their table. "How are we doing, folks?" He asked pleasantly, a sharp contrast to the atmosphere created by the two sitting at the table.

Andy smiled politely. "Can I get this to go, please?" She asked calmly, pointing at her food.

"Of course," he said, taking the half eaten lasagna from her. "Anything else?"

"No," Luke replied sharply, "We're fine."

"Okay." The waiter looked back at Andy. "I'll be right back ma'am."

"Thank you," Andy said quietly. She looked back at Luke. "I made a mistake," she admitted, "And you're right, you did forgive me. But that doesn't give you a free pass to cheat on me."

"I just thought that you would be a little more understanding, that's all," Luke said.

"Well, I'm sorry," Andy apologized insincerely, "I don't understand. And you know what? I don't want to understand."

"You can't tell me that you just want to give up on everything we had," Luke pleaded, "You can't tell me that you don't have feelings for me anymore."

Andy was quiet for a moment, carefully considering her words. "Of course I still have feelings for you Luke. I loved you."

"Then why can't we work this out?" Luke questioned.

"You missed what I said, "Andy said, shaking her head, "I _loved _you. I don't still love you."

About that time the waiter came back to their table and handed Andy her to-go box. She thanked him and then lifted her eyes to meet Luke's. "You hurt me, Luke," she told him honestly. "I trusted you not to, and you hurt me more than I've ever been hurt before."

"I know," Luke said, "And I will spend the rest of my life making up for that."

Andy shook her head sadly. "Don't you get it?" She asked. "That's not what I want. I want you to just… just let me go. Let me move on."

"I can't do that Andy," Luke said adamantly. "I can't move on. I miss you."

"It's not really your choice," She told him. She picked up the to-go box from the table. "I should probably head home."

"Head to Swarek's home, don't you mean?" Luke knew that he shouldn't have gone there, but he couldn't stop the words from flying out of his mouth.

Andy pursed her lips and decided to be straightforward. "He's letting me stay with him until my apartment is ready."

"That's awfully convenient."

"Just stop," Andy said, exasperated. "He's being a good friend. There's nothing going on."

"You expect me to believe that?"

"I don't really care what you believe," Andy said, pulling her purse out from under her chair.

"Andy," Luke said as she stood up. "Just one more question."

She glared at him as she slipped on her coat.

He grinned menacingly. "How is he in the sack? Is it everything you hoped it would be?"

Andy visibly recoiled at his words. Reigning in her anger, knowing that any reaction would just make things worse, she forced a tight smile. "Thank you for dinner. Do not call me ever again."

Her jaw clenched, she turned on her heel and marched out of the restaurant.

Sam saw the lights from the truck bounce against the walls of the alley when Andy pulled up. A few minutes later he heard the front door open and the click of Andy's heels on the wooden floor.

"Hey," he called out to her from his spot on the couch. "How'd it go?"

Andy dropped her purse and to-go box off in the kitchen and then joined him in the living room. He could tell just from her expression that things had not gone well. "Uh oh," he guessed. "Not good?"

Andy let out a short, sad laugh as she collapsed beside him. When she turned to face him he could see that her eyes were red-rimmed, like she had been crying. He had the sudden and very intense desire to punch Luke out.

"On a scale of one to ten," Andy said, "With one being great and ten being worse than having my fingernails ripped out one by one?"

"Okay…" Sam said, alarmed at the imagery.

Andy sighed. "I'd say about a seven."

"I'm sorry," Sam told her honestly.

"It's okay," Andy said. "You were right, I needed to just get it over with. I don't think we solved anything but…" she paused and shook her head, "I don't know. I hope we can both just move on now."

"I know I'm probably going to regret asking this," Sam prefaced, "But do you want to talk about it?"

Andy laughed and pulled off her jacket. "Not really. You should feel special though, he did bring you up several times."

"Why?" Sam asked, genuinely confused.

"Well," Andy said, kicking her shoes off, "First he told me that I should be more forgiving because he forgave me for almost sleeping with you."

"We didn't sleep together though," Sam protested, "And you weren't engaged at the time."

Andy held up her hand, stopping him. "I know," she commiserated. "Trust me, I know." She turned so her back was against the arm of the sofa and her head rested against the back. She curled her feet up beneath her and faced Sam.

"What else did he say?" Sam asked.

"He not so subtly implied that he knew I was staying with you, which I confirmed," she recounted for him. "And then…" she hesitated.

"Then what?"

Andy decided to just tell him. "Then he asked how you were in bed."

"Oh," Sam said, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah."

"What'd you say?" Sam asked, one side of his mouth tugging upwards into a cocky grin.

"Well obviously I said that you were the best I've ever had and that every time was just mind-blowingly awesome," Andy lied.

The grin spread fully across his face. "Really?"

"No!" Andy said, slapping his arm.

"Oh." The grin fell. "What did you say?"

"I just," Andy trailed off, shaking her head. "I just told him thanks for dinner and never to call me again."

Sam didn't know what to say, he wasn't exactly experienced in the relationship advice department, so he settled for reaching across the sofa and resting his hand on Andy's knee. "I'm really am sorry," he said.

"Thank you," she responded sincerely. She took a minute to look around the room, organizing her thoughts. "I thought I was safe with Luke, you know?" Sam nodded. "I never even considered that he would cheat on me, that he would hurt me like that."

"Neither did I," Sam told her.

Andy was quiet for a moment and then asked in a thin voice, "Is that why you kept pushing me to him? Because you didn't think he would hurt me?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked innocently.

Andy fixed him with a look. "You know what I mean. At first you tried to warn me away from him but then it seemed like every time something happened or there was even just the slightest hint of trouble, you would tell me to give him a break, or tell me how great he was. That he was solid and dependable."

Sam sighed. "I thought he was. I thought he would make you happy," he admitted. His voiced caught in his throat as he added, "I just want you to be happy."

Andy nodded, feeling warm tears sting her eyes. "I know," she whispered, her voice shaky.

"Hey now," Sam said, instinctively grabbing Andy by the elbow and pulling her towards him. "Don't do that," he pleaded, cradling her against his chest. "Don't cry."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, brushing her fingers across her cheeks. "I'm just tired and it was a long day and Luke just really…"

"It's okay," he interrupted her quietly, smoothing her hair down and kissing the top of her head.

He held her for a while longer, alternating between letting her cry and trying to make her laugh.

"Next time someone asks how I am in bed, Luke or anyone, just tell them that I'm awesome," Sam advised her smugly. Andy had laughed but he chided her gently, "Don't laugh, it's the truth."

"Thank you, Sam" Andy said, pushing away from him. With her hands still on his chest she added, "Who would have thought a year ago that you would be the most stable man in my life right now?"

"I guess you never can tell," Sam said, shrugging.

Andy smiled at him and then moved to stand up. "I'm just going to go change," she told him. "I'll be back in a minute."

"Okay," Sam said, releasing her. He nonchalantly added, "Oh, hey, check in the freezer on your way back."

Andy eyed him suspiciously, "What's in the freezer?"

"Well," Sam explained, rolling his eyes. "When you look in the freezer, you'll find out."

"It's not anything weird is it?"

"No, it's not anything weird," he assured her.

She thought for a moment. "Did you buy more ice cream?"

Sam tried to hide a smile. "Maybe."

"Just for me?"

"No," he told her, "You have to share."

Andy couldn't contain her smile. "Sam Swarek, you are actually very sweet," she declared before hurrying towards the staircase so she could get changed.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered under his breath. Louder, he called after her, "Hey, let's not spread this around! Especially to Oliver. Do not tell Oliver!"


	6. Chapter 6

Author's Note: As always, thanks for the reviews! You guys are awesome and so encouraging. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

* * *

><p>"So, McNally," Oliver started as she and Sam walked into the parade room. Sam took the seat next to Oliver and Andy sat in front of them, next to Chris. "What's Sammy here like as a roommate?"<p>

Andy shot a nervous glance at Sam, to which he responded with an imperceptible eye roll and shake of the head. Oliver caught the exchange. "Oh, my bad, is it still supposed to be a secret?" he asked unapologetically.

"No, it was never a secret," Sam told him, glancing around as other officers entered the room.

"Good. Then 'fess up, McNally," Oliver said, turning back to the rookie. "I've always suspected he's into something weird… animal sacrifices, poetry readings, midget porn, Harry Potter fandom maybe."

"You find poetry and midget porn equally concerning?" Andy asked skeptically.

Oliver shrugged, "I'm thinking that the poetry is about midgets."

"Oh, yeah," Andy said, nodding in agreement. "That would be concerning."

"It's the actually the least concerning thing I've considered," Oliver told her.

"You spend way too much time thinking about my personal life," Sam interjected into the rapid-fire banter between Oliver and his partner.

"That's cause you're just so darn mysterious, brother," Oliver mocked, clapping Sam on the shoulder. He looked expectantly at Andy. "Well?"

Andy laughed. "No, nothing too out of the ordinary," she assured Oliver.

Best called their attention to start parade and, with a small smile at Sam, Andy turned around in her seat.

"So," Oliver whispered to Sam, "You're still on for Jerry's tonight, right?"

"What's at Jerry's?" Sam asked.

Oliver looked at him in disbelief. "Me taking all your money, that's what's at Jerry's. Poker night."

Sam groaned. "I forgot."

"Oh, yeah, I can see how that could happen," Oliver said, giving the back of Andy's head a significant look. "You've had other things on your mind."

Sam ignored him. "I'll be there," he said.

"Good," Oliver said, "I could use some cash. My daughter needs to get braces put on this month."

"I hope you have another plan to pay for that," Sam shot back. Oliver guffawed, feigning insult.

Best cleared his throat, his unsubtle way of telling the two men to stop interrupting him. Oliver held his hands up and stage whispered, "Sorry."

Assignments were handed out and Andy found herself paired with Chris for the day, manning a speed trap near one of the city's new construction zones.

If there was any part of the job that Andy disliked, it was running speed traps, especially in the frigid November air. She and Chris took turns holding the radar gun, switching off when they could no longer move their faces or feel their hands.

"So, who's that girl I saw Dov with?" Andy asked Chris during one of their breaks. They sat in their car, both drinking hot chocolate in an attempt to warm up.

"You mean Sue?" Chris asked.

"I guess," Andy replied. She had no idea what the girl's name was.

"That's Dov's girlfriend," Chris told her with a wide grin.

Andy's eyes widened, "No way, Dov has a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, she's awesome," Chris said, obviously happy for his friend. "She's the bomb tech from meth house."

"Oh right!" Andy said, remembering who she was. "I thought she looked familiar. Wow, how'd I miss that one?"

"Well, you have been kind of out of it lately," Chris told her, honestly but not unkindly.

"I know," Andy admitted, taking a sip of the hot chocolate that she held. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I understand," Chris shrugged. "When I broke up with Denise I didn't want to talk about it either."

"Thanks," Andy said. She was reminded yet again of what a good friend Chris was.

"Hey, Sue's gonna join us at the Penny tonight," Chris told her. "Come with us and meet her for real, it'll be fun."

"I don't know Chris…" Andy said, hesitating.

Chris gave her his best puppy-dog eyes. "Please."

Andy looked over at him and he stuck out his bottom lip, pouting. There was no way she could say no to that. "Fine!" She agreed, laughing at his tactics. "You're right, it'll be fun."

Chris grinned. "Awesome!"

Aside from a brief pursuit, the driver had been on his cellphone and didn't want to end the conversation to get a ticket, the day had gone by smoothly.

Sam found Andy after shift in the locker room. "Hey," he said, leaning on the locker next to her's. "How was your day?"

"Cold," Andy grumbled as she pulled a sweater over the camisole she was wearing. "I was outside writing tickets for eight hours. I think my fingers have finally started to defrost though, so that's a plus. You?"

"Fine," Sam said dismissively, not really there to discuss his day. "Listen, I forgot about the poker game at Jerry's tonight. I usually just crash at his place afterwards."

"Oh," Andy said, "Okay, I told Chris I'd meet them at the Penny anyway. I think I've been avoiding it long enough. I'll just get a ride from someone or take the bus home."

"That's okay, I'll catch a cab with Oliver over there and get a ride from Jerry in the morning," Sam told her. He held up his keys, "You think you'll be okay to drive the truck home?"

Andy knew he was really asking how much she was planning on drinking that night. "I'll be fine," she said, taking the keys from him. "I'll probably stay for one drink and then head home and take a nice, hot bath."

"Whoa, slow down there, party animal," Sam warned sarcastically. "You sure you can handle all that in one night?"

Andy smirked at him. "Your senior citizen ways must be rubbing off on me."

"Ouch," Sam deadpanned. He watched as Andy stuffed some of her belongings into her workbag. "You going to be okay by yourself?"

"I'm a big girl Sam," Andy said, zipping her bag closed. "I'll be fine."

"I know," Sam said. "Just don't forget to lock the door and set the alarm."

"I won't forget," Andy said earnestly, "I promise."

She knew she should probably find his overprotectiveness smothering and overbearing, but she didn't. After he told her what happened to his sister, she understood that his concern came from a very real, very hurt, place and she'd long ago decided just to accept it as part of who he was.

Sam Swarek may not be scared of many things, but he was absolutely terrified of something happening to someone he loved.

Not that he loved her, Andy reminded herself quickly, interrupting her own thoughts. He cared about her and didn't want anything to happen to her. He didn't love her. And even if he did love her it wasn't _love _love, he loved her like a good friend, like a partner.

It was complicated.

Andy groaned inwardly just listening to her internal monologue. She shook her head to clear the distracting thoughts and forced herself to focus on what Sam was saying.

"And don't go rifling through my stuff," he finished gruffly.

Andy crossed her arms and leaned her shoulder against a closed locker. "Afraid I'll find your midget porn collection?" She joked.

Sam grinned, remembering their conversation with Oliver from earlier that day. "Nope, just my poetry."

"Well that actually might be worth searching for," Andy countered, laughing softly.

"I promise, it's not," Sam said, chuckling.

There was a brief moment where they both stood there, facing one another, smiling, not saying a word. It should have been awkward, but it wasn't.

The moment was broken when Sam coughed and pushed himself off the locker to stand up straight. "Alright, well, I'll see you tomorrow then."

Andy nodded. "Goodnight, Sam. Have fun."

He winked and then turned to walk away, calling back, "'Night McNally."

Andy waited until Sam left the room before turning back to her locker. As she did, she caught the expression on Gail's face. "What?" Andy asked sharply.

Gail, who had been watching the entire exchange, snorted, "You two need to just do it and get it over with."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Andy replied easily, picking up her bag.

"Oh please, two more seconds and he would have been dry humping you against the lockers," Gail predicted. Andy noticed that behind Gail, Traci was trying very unsuccessfully to hide her laughter. "I thought we were going to have to break out the fire extinguisher."

Rattled by the icy blonde's bluntness, Andy narrowed her eyes. "Gail… just…" She groaned, flustered, frustrated with herself for not being able to come up with an intelligent comeback. "Whatever."

"Nice one," Gail retorted. Hoisting her bag over her shoulder, she glanced between the other two women, "See you guys at the Penny."

"See ya Gail," Traci called out.

Andy glared at her friend.

Traci noticed the glare and turned to Andy. "What?" she asked, grinning. "You know she's right."

Andy just shook her head and walked out of the locker room without a word. She could still hear Traci's soft laughter as the door swung close.

As she had promised, Andy stayed for one drink at the Penny before heading home. It was actually really good to hang out with her friends again outside of work and to meet Dov's new girlfriend, but once Traci left Andy felt like the fifth wheel. She finished up her game of darts with Gail and Chris and then said her goodbyes.

She had just climbed into bed when she heard someone pounding on the front door. Alarmed, she hurried down the stairs to see what was going on. As she got closer she could hear a familiar voice call out, "McNally!"

"What the…?" Andy threw open the door to find Sam standing there, his fist poised to knock again. His eyes were glazed over and he had a ridiculous grin on his face.

"Hi," Sam greeted her, drawing the word out. He was clearly drunk. "I don't have my keys," he explained unnecessarily.

"Oh geez," Andy said, leaning against the doorframe. "I thought you were staying at Jerry's tonight."

"Well, I was," Sam explained slowly, gesturing towards himself, "But then Oliver wanted to take a cab home, " he pointed back towards the taxi, "So I joined him."

"Hi Andy," Oliver called. He hung out the back window, waving. "I brought Sammy home for you."

Andy just laughed and waved back. "Okay, thank you!" She signaled to the cab driver that she had Sam, and the taxi took off.

When she turned back to Sam he was still grinning at her. Apparently they were still in the "fun drunk" stage of the evening. Andy laughed, "You look like you're feeling pretty good right now."

"Oh, I am," Sam said, nodding. The movement made him dizzy so he stopped. "Can I come in?"

Andy smiled and stepped out of the way. "It is your house," she reminded him.

"That's right," he said as if he was just remembering, "It is." He stumbled over the doorstep and had to steady himself against the wall. He looked back to see what he had tripped over, "Where'd that come from?"

"It's been there for a while." Andy shook her head, chuckling at the sight in front of her.

"Oh. I'm going to get it removed. It's hazar… hazard…" He paused and licked his lips. "Well, it shouldn't be there."

"Okay," Andy indulged him while closing the front door. "You can take care of it later though."

Sam looked back and wrinkled his nose. "Yeah. Later." He started to walk towards his room again, leaning against the wall for support.

Andy took pity on him and his off-centered balance and wrapped one of his arms over her shoulder. "Come on," she said, "Let's get you to bed."

"That's a good idea," Sam said, leaning the majority of his weight onto Andy. She faltered slightly, the added weight throwing her off-balance, but quickly regained her footing. "Are you going to join me?"

Andy choked out a surprised laugh, "Ha, no Romeo, not tonight. I'm going to let you sleep this one off all on your own."

"You sure?" He whispered close to Andy's ear. He nuzzled his nose into her hair and his hand that had been around her shoulder began to migrate south.

"Sam!" She exclaimed, slapping his hand away. "Cut it out."

Sam grunted in displeasure, but didn't say anything else in response.

The trip had been slow but they finally made it to Sam's room. "Here you go," Andy said, standing him in front of his bed. She helped him get his jacket off and then instructed, "Arms up." He did as she asked and she pulled his long-sleeved t-shirt over his head, leaving him in an undershirt. She quickly undid his belt, her hands fumbling slightly, and slipped it free of his pants. "Sit down." Again, he did as she instructed and she knelt down to untie his shoes.

While she was working on getting his shoes off, Sam reached behind his back to yank his undershirt off. He balled in up and tossed it towards his laundry hamper.

Andy watched as it landed perfectly. She looked up at him and narrowed her eyes. "You're not really drunk are you?" She asked suspiciously.

"I was, actually, very drunk," Sam assured her. "But freezing my ass off outside waiting for you to open the door sobered me up a little bit."

Andy stood and put her hands on her hips. "Are you trying to take advantage of me?" She asked, trying to sound more upset than she actually was.

Sam just grinned and held his hands up in innocence. "You're the one that started undressing me," he pointed out.

"You didn't stop me," Andy accused.

Sam scoffed. "Why would I stop a beautiful woman from taking my clothes off?"

Andy blushed at the compliment but she shook her head and tried to look stern. It didn't work very well, Sam was still grinning that ridiculous grin at her and she couldn't help but smile back. "Okay, well," she said, turning to walk away. "I think you've got it from here."

"Wait." Sam stood up and grabbed her wrist.

Andy stopped. "What is it?"

Sam tugged on her arm, pulling her into his personal space. She stood mere inches away from him, close enough to feel the heat radiating off of his body and smell the alcohol that still lingered on his breath. It smelled sweet and when mixed with the cologne he wore, the effect was…

Intoxicating.

Andy reminded herself to breathe as Sam slipped an arm around her waist. His hand was warm against the sliver of skin exposed between where her camisole ended and her pajama pants began.

Her very thin camisole, Andy remembered as she felt her body unwittingly responding to him.

Sam's voice was low and gravelly when he spoke. "Andy, do you think…" He paused for a spilt second and she looked up at him, finding his dark brown eyes boring into hers. His thumb traced a lazy, unknown pattern on her bare skin.

She licked her lips. "Yes?" She wasn't sure if she was asking or answering.

"Do you think you could get me some water?" He asked, grinning down at her as he stepped away, putting some much needed distance between them.

The haze Andy had been in lifted and she reached out and slapped his arm. "Jerk," she swore.

"Owww," Sam complained, rubbing where she slapped him. "No, but really, will you get me some water?"

"Yes," Andy said, turning to stomp out of his room. "I'll get you your stupid water."

"And some Advil," he called. As an afterthought he added, "Thank you."

When Andy returned with a glass of water and two pills Sam was in bed, the covers pulled up to his chest. He patted the space beside him and Andy sat down, the bed dipping ever so slightly as she did.

"Here you go," She said, holding the pills and water out to him. "Sit up so you don't choke."

Sam smirked and pushed himself up, "Your concern is touching."

Andy watched as his swallowed the pills with a sip of water. She took the glass from him and set it on the nightstand and then asked, "So how'd it go tonight?"

"Eh…" Sam said, lying back down. "I was off my game."

"You didn't lose too much money, did you?"

"Enough to pay for at least one month of braces," he told her. Andy's brow wrinkled in confusion. "For Oliver's kid," he clarified.

Andy still didn't understand what he was talking about, but she let it go. "You're home kind of earlier than I would have expected from a boys' night."

"Maybe I just wanted to come home to you McNally," Sam said, brushing his fingers down her arm. Andy narrowed her eyes at him, knowing he wasn't drunk enough to actually admit to something like that. "Nash showed up and Jerry kicked us out," he admitted, dropping his hand. It landed on her hip and he left it there, curling his fingers around her.

"The real story always comes out eventually," Andy said, smiling softly. She didn't acknowledge the hand on her hip but she didn't object either.

Sam just shrugged. "How was the Penny?"

"It was good," Andy told him. "Dov has a girlfriend."

"Yeah," Sam said, yawning, "The bomb squad lady."

"How'd you know that?" Andy asked, genuinely surprised that he knew, especially since she hadn't.

"I know things McNally," he declared indignantly.

"I just didn't think you cared, that's all."

"Knowing and caring are two very different things," Sam informed her.

She raised an eyebrow and asked, "Did Oliver tell you?"

"Maybe," Sam confessed. His eyes were getting heavy but he fought to keep them open. "Did you get your bath?"

Andy grinned. "Yes I did," she replied, "And it was everything I hoped it would be."

"Good," Sam said with a sharp nod. He yawned again and Andy took it as her cue to leave.

"Well," she said, "If you're all set here I'm going to go back to bed."

"I'm good," he said, patting her leg. "Go to bed."

"Goodnight, Sam." On instinct she leaned forward and kissed his forehead. She didn't really think about the action until she had actually done it. She pulled back slowly, unsure of what his reaction would be.

A small smile tugged at his lips. "Goodnight, Andy."

"Goodnight," she repeated softly before standing. She padded out of his room, flicking off the light as she left.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's Note: Guys, I'm going to admit something that I hope doesn't make you think less of me. I was pretty terrified to write this chapter. I have all of the main plot points outlined and have been intimidated of this chapter since the very beginning. You'll probably read it and think, "What is she talking about?" Anyway, so I procrastinated writing it because I was afraid. And then I read through some of your reviews and thought to myself, "Kris (that's me), these people believe you can do it, so just do it." And then I started writing and I didn't stop. All of that is to say thank you. Thank you for your reading this story and thank you for taking the time to review. It really does mean so much.

Author's Note 2: The episode last night was incredible and I am so excited about the rest of the season! Yay for Andy FINALLY getting it!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

* * *

><p>Andy was glad they didn't have to work the next morning. She slept in and when she went downstairs she found that Sam was still sleeping. Laughing softly to herself, she realized that he really must have been out of it the night before- he was always awake before she was.<p>

She went about making coffee like Sam had shown her and then grabbed the newspaper off of the front steps. Coffee in hand, she walked over to the couch and stretched out on it, head propped at one end and feet at the other.

She held the newspaper in front of her, but she wasn't really reading it.

Her thoughts drifted back to the night before and to Sam. He'd never been quite as aggressively flirtatious before, but she would be lying if she said she hadn't enjoyed it. He had been charming and adorable in his own Sam-way, and he'd made her feel beautiful. More than that, he'd made her feel wanted.

And she could admit to herself that part of her wanted him, too. The other part was still scared- scared of rushing into something, scared of getting hurt again. If she was honest, she was even scared of hurting Sam.

Her thoughts were interrupted when she heard Sam's door open. She heard his footsteps against the wooden floor as he came plodding into the kitchen. He looked like he usually did in the morning before his shower- pajama pants tied low around his waist, bare chest, scruffy face and disheveled hair.

Andy kind of liked seeing him that way, before he'd had a chance to get all cleaned up and ready for the day. Not many people got to see that side of him, the vulnerable and unguarded side.

He was rubbing at his eyes, like a child does when they're sleepy, and went straight for the coffee. She knew better than to try and talk to him yet, so she waited until he walked over to join her in the living room. Instead of asking her to move her feet so he could sit down, Sam lifted them in one hand and slid beneath, allowing them to come to rest on his lap.

"Your feet are freezing," he mumbled as a greeting.

Andy raised an amused eyebrow. "Good morning."

"'Morning," he replied gruffly as he pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and placed it over her legs, tucking it around her feet. "Better?"

"Yeah, thank you," Andy said, hiding a smile. Her feet hadn't been the slightest bit cold, but she wasn't going to say anything.

Sam took a sip of coffee and then leaned his head against the back of the sofa, closing his eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Andy asked.

"Oh, I've been better," Sam answered honestly, not bothering to open his eyes. Andy almost wondered if he had fallen asleep until he spoke, "We need to go to the grocery store at some point today."

"Okay," Andy agreed. "Do you want to get ready and go now?"

Sam stretched his legs out and rested them on the coffee table. "No." His head pounded and his body ached and he had no desire to move from right where he was.

"Do you want me to just go?" Andy asked, making a move to get up from the couch.

Sam stopped her. "No," he said, closing his eyes again and patting her feet that still rested in his lap. "Just stay here for now. We can go later."

Andy relaxed and settled back into the cushions. "Okay," she repeated, smiling softly as she took a sip of her coffee.

They never did make it to the grocery store. They didn't even make it out of their pajamas. Instead, they spent the day reading the newspaper, eating cereal for lunch, napping on the couch and watching a marathon of Law & Order. When it came time for dinner, Sam glanced over at Andy and suggested take out- there was no point in getting ready when there were so few hours left in the day. He'd barely gotten the question out before she'd agreed, requesting a place she used to order from all the time before moving in with Luke.

Andy realized it was the first time that day Luke had been mentioned, or thought about, at all. More surprisingly, she realized that when she said his name, there was nothing- no pang in her stomach, no ache in her heart.

She'd paused long enough for Sam to notice. "You okay?" he'd asked.

"Yeah," Andy had answered honestly for the first time in quite a while. "I'm good."

The next morning the precinct was abuzz with activity when they arrived for their shift. Best was yelling for everyone to hurry up and get to parade, so Sam and Andy parted ways and got changed quickly. They met back in the parade room just as Best was handing things over to Luke. Sam stayed in the back, sliding in next to Jerry, and Andy slipped into a chair next to Dov.

Luke posted a picture of a handsome man, probably in his early forties. He began giving the details they knew about the case. "Michael Creighton, age 43, found by police around four this morning after neighbors called in a disturbance. Creighton was dead at the scene." He posted another picture of the man lying face down in a pool of blood. "Shot in the head and chest multiple times by what looks like a .38. Wounds indicate a struggle. There are, however, no signs of forced entry."

"What do we know about him?" Oliver asked from the back of the room.

"Lived in an upper-middle class, low crime neighborhood, worked as an accountant at a firm here in the city," Luke said. He posted another picture of a pretty blonde woman. "Married to Ashley Creighton, age 28. She did not show up for work this morning and her car is missing from the garage."

"So we're thinking the wife did it?" Sam asked. "Spousal dispute gone south?"

"Right now she's our prime person of interest," Luke answered. "We have an APB out for her car, a silver Lexus RX 300. We also looking into Creighton's clients."

Gail raised her hand, "What about kids?"

"Michael and Ashley have been married a little over a year, no kids, but he does have two from a previous marriage- Justin, age 17 and Julianne, age 14. Joint custody but the ex-wife has them during the week," Luke explained. "We've sent an officer over to her house."

Best took over, handing out assignments. Andy and Sam were told to go to the school were Ashley Creighton worked as a second grade teacher and talk to her principal and coworkers. "See if Ashley ever talked about problems in the marriage, or if anyone has any idea where she might have taken off to," Luke told them.

"Got it," Sam said, following Andy out of the parade room.

They arrived at the elementary school where Ashley taught and went in to talk to the principal. "Mrs. Creighton has never just not shown up for work," the principal, Mrs. Lester, told them as she ushered them into her office. "Do you know what happened?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out," Andy said. "Do you know if Ashley has any family in the area? Anywhere she might go if she were in trouble?"

"Ashley doesn't have any family," the Mrs. Lester explained. "She was an only child and her parents died a couple of years ago in a car accident. That's how she and Michael met, he was her parents' accountant."

"Has she mentioned any problems with Michael lately?"

Mrs. Lester pursed her lips and shook her head. "No," she said, "She never mentioned anything. They always seemed very happy. The only thing she's ever said is that Michael's son has been challenging."

As Andy was talking with the principal Sam was moving about the office, looking at the pictures and diplomas Mrs. Lester had hung. He stopped in front of one, a team picture, and read the names at the bottom.

"Is that him?" He asked, pointing to one of the boys in the picture. "Justin Creighton?"

Mrs. Lester nodded. "That's him. He and my son Ethan played on the same travelling baseball team, which is probably the only reason Ashley ever said something to me about him."

"What do you mean?" Andy asked, her brow wrinkling.

"Well," Mrs. Lester replied hesitantly, "Justin was the pitcher on the team and was very talented. He was already offered a scholarship to play at the University of Toronto."

"Impressive," Andy commented.

"Well, it would have been, but in the final game of the season Justin got mad at the umpire for walking a guy." Mrs. Lester told them. "He punched the umpire in the face. He got suspended from the team and lost his scholarship. Ashley said that Michael was furious with him."

"How so?"

Mrs. Lester shrugged, "She never went into detail, just said that things were tense between Justin and his dad."

Sam gave Andy a significant look and tilted his head towards the door. Andy acknowledged him with a quick nod and then turned back to Mrs. Lester. "Okay, thanks for your help. Here's my card," she said, pulling a card from her pocket and handing it over, "If you think of anything else give us a call."

As they were walking back to their car Andy glanced over at Sam. "What're you thinking?"

"Same thing you're thinking," Sam said, opening his door.

Andy leaned against the car, her elbows pressing into the cold metal, and looked at Sam over the roof. "You think we should head over to the high school and find out where Justin was last night?"

Sam nodded. "I think so."

Justin hadn't shown up for school that day. Andy and Sam tracked down Ethan Lester, the principal's son, to ask him what he knew about his friend.

"He's my teammate," Ethan told them when they pulled him out of class, "But that guy is not my friend."

"Why not?" Sam asked.

"He's nuts," Ethan said, "He punched out an umpire."

"Yeah, you're mom told us about that," Sam said. "Listen, Ethan, did Justin lose his temper a lot?"

"He didn't use to," Ethan answered, shrugging, "But ever since his dad remarried its like he's gone crazy. He's really aggressive and he tries to fight about everything. If we weren't drug tested all the time for baseball I would swear he was on steroids."

"Did Justin ever say anything about his dad?" Andy asked. "Maybe about hurting him?"

Ethan shook his head, "Not really. He talked about his stepmom all the time though."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "What about her?"

"It was weird," Ethan said. "Like about how hot she was and stuff. He was like, obsessed with her."

Andy flicked her eyes over to meet Sam's and they shared a look. "Ethan, one last thing and then we'll let you get back to class," Sam said. "Do you know of anywhere Ethan might go if he was in trouble?"

Ethan thought for a moment and then shook his head. "No, I'm sorry."

Sam clapped the boy on the shoulder. "It's okay, thanks for your help buddy."

Andy and Sam turned to walk down the hallway but stopped when Ethan called out. "Maybe the clubhouse?"

"What clubhouse?" Andy asked, walking back towards Ethan.

"For our baseball team," Ethan said. "We're on the all-star travel team, the only one in our age group in Toronto." He held up a set of keys, "They gave us keys so we could use the weight room during the off-season, but most of us just work out here at school." Ethan shrugged, "Justin probably had to turn in his key when he was suspended, but it might be worth checking out."

Andy asked Ethan where the clubhouse was and then she and Sam sped over there. "Sam look," Andy said, pointing into the small parking lot. There was only one car in the otherwise abandoned lot. "Silver Lexus SUV. Plates match."

"Got him," Sam declared, calling for back up as he pulled up next to the car.

They found Ashley inside in one of the locker rooms, tied up and terrified. It was obvious from her torn clothing that she had been attacked and possibly raped. Justin was waving around the gun that he had used to kill his father but when both Sam and Andy drew their weapons, he surrendered.

They called for a ambulance to take Ashley to the hospital and Andy volunteered to ride with her while Sam took Justin back to the station. Because it was Luke's case, he and Sam worked the interrogation together, getting a full confession out of Justin in no time.

Oliver and Dov, the other two officers who had arrived at the scene, were watching the interrogation from the viewing room. After Justin signed his confession Sam motioned for Epstein to take him to booking.

After going over some of the details with Luke, Sam stood up to leave. "Nice work, Detective Callaghan," he said with sincerity. "Cased closed in a day, not too shabby."

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy." Luke repeated his name and then let out a low, humorless chuckle. "You just can't help yourself, can you?"

Sam had opened the door to the interview room, preparing to walk out. He let it close and turned to Luke. "Come again?" he asked calmly, unsure of whether he'd heard the detective correctly.

"It's incredible, really," Luke continued disingenuously, "how you're always able to take things right from underneath me."

Sam knew exactly where Luke was going and he tried to end the conversation before it began. "Look, let's not start this, okay?"

Luke ignored his request. "My cases," he said, waving his hand over the open files on the desk. He looked back up at Sam and narrowed his eyes. "My women."

"McNally and I followed a good lead, that's all," Sam said, still trying to diffuse the situation that he suspected could erupt at any moment. "A good lead that we got from doing what you asked us to do, alright? We weren't trying to take over your case. Sometimes you just get lucky."

"Oh," Luke said bitterly, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms over his chest. He winked conspiratorially, "I bet you are getting very lucky."

Sam ground his teeth together, fighting to keep control over his anger. "You've got something to say to me, that's fine, but don't talk about her like that," he warned.

"I'm actually surprised it took you as long as it did," Luke admitted, baiting him, "What was it? One month after ending things with me and she's already living with you?"

"Andy is not living with me," Sam corrected him sharply. "Nor is she sleeping with me. She's staying with me until her apartment is ready."

"Semantics," Luke argued. "She's right where you've always wanted her."

"You really want get into this right now?" Sam asked. "Here, at work?"

"Get into what?" Luke asked innocently. "You moving in on my fiancé?"

"Okay, first of all," Sam stated, "She's not your fiancé. In fact, I'm not even convinced she was ever supposed to be your fiancé."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"She told me how you proposed," Sam told him, unable to resist the temptation to make Luke aware that Andy had confided in him, "After she found the ring in your lockbox. That ring wasn't for her."

"It was…"

"Don't lie." Sam cut him off sharply. "You bought that ring for Jo. You know it, I know it, Andy probably knows it too."

"I'm certain you've shared your theory with her," Luke accused.

"I actually try to talk about you as little as possible," Sam confessed. "And the times that I do talk about you, it's usually to patch up some dumbass thing you've done."

Luke snorted. "Yeah, like I'm going to believe you didn't use every chance you got to try and split us up."

Sam knew it was wrong and petty, but he couldn't help asking, "Why do you think she went to dinner with you the other night, huh?"

Luke shrugged, "I assume she wanted to talk."

"That's the last thing she wanted to do," Sam informed him. "She lost a bet. If it wasn't for me and three lucky aces, she'd probably still be ignoring all of your pathetic phone calls."

Luke narrowed his eyes. "You expect me to believe that?"

"I couldn't care less what you believe," Sam responded candidly. "And it really doesn't matter now because, in case all of your drinking binges have led to some kind of short term memory loss, you and McNally broke up."

"We can still work things out," Luke insisted. "I still want her back."

"Well, that's just too damn bad buddy," Sam said, his voice filling with intensity as he leaned over Luke, "She doesn't want you back. You slept with someone else!"

Luke stood up, shoving his chair out of the way. It hit the wall with a harsh metallic clang. "And I bet that just made your day, didn't it? Knowing that I messed up so you could have your shot at Andy."

"You're a sick bastard if you think I took any pleasure in the fact that you hurt her," Sam told him between clenched teeth.

"Why wouldn't you?" Luke asked, stepping closer to Sam. "You've wanted her this whole time, now you get to be her knight in shining armor, sweep her off her feet. Isn't that right?"

"No," Sam said, not backing down from the taller man, "I wanted her to be with someone that would take care of her, that wouldn't hurt her. I thought that person was you." He paused, "Obviously I was colossally mistaken. Now, if there's a point to this Callaghan, other than you making a bigger jackass out of yourself than you already have, you better make it fast."

Luke chewed his bottom lip before asking, "So you want her now, is that it?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Sam said, "But yeah, I do. And you can be damn sure I won't screw it up like you did."

"What exactly makes you think you're better than me?"

"Well, in the time that I've known her I've managed not to sleep with any ex-lovers, so I've got that one up on you," Sam countered.

"Have you slept with anyone Sam at all?" Luke shot back, waving his arms out. "Or have you just been pining away for Andy?" On Sam's silence Luke grinned viciously. "How'd it make you feel, huh buddy? Going home every night, alone," he paused for emphasis, "knowing Andy was with me? Knowing she was in my bed?"

Sam worked his neck from side to side and then answered, in a creepily calm voice, "If Andy wanted to be with you, then that's where I wanted her to be."

Luke's eyes widened in incredulity. "Oh for Christ's sake, Sammy," he practically shouted. "Give up the martyr act. It's pathetic."

For a moment, Sam said nothing. He met Luke's gaze in a silent stare down.

"Fine," Sam said, "You want to know the truth?"

"That would be nice."

"It sucked at the time," Sam told him honestly, "But now, whether she's with me or not, I never have to wonder if she would rather be with you. I never have to wonder if she's thinking that maybe she made a mistake not picking you." He narrowed his eyes. "Can you say the same thing?"

"I knew from the beginning," Luke said, his voice low and controlled, "That you were going to cause problems. If it wasn't for you, Andy and I might still be together."

"You were the one that couldn't keep it in your pants. If it makes you feel better to lie to yourself about what happened, go ahead," Sam replied, "But you and I both know that Andy makes her own decisions and she decided to leave you. She asked you to leave her alone and you need to respect that."

"Just because Andy's not with me anymore," Luke said snidely, "It doesn't mean she's going to be with you."

Sam laughed humorlessly, "Yeah, I know that."

"So, what? You're just going to wait around until she makes up her mind?"

"Something like that," Sam nodded, "Yeah." He took a step to the door, finished with the conversation.

"Why?" Luke called out to him. "Why would you put yourself through that?"

Sam turned back to him. He studied the other man for a moment before answering. "Because," he replied simply, "I love her."

Andy got back from the hospital and immediately went to the locker room, wanting nothing more than to take a nice, hot shower. Ashley told her what happened on the way to the hospital. She had gotten up from bed to get a glass of water when she found Justin sitting in their living room, holding his father's gun. He attacked her and when Michael heard the commotion and came out to see what was going on, Justin and his father got into a physical fight. Tears streamed down Ashley's face as she recalled the gun going off and seeing blood pool underneath her husband.

Andy shook her head. She would never get used to some of the sick things that people did. She opened her locker to grab a towel and found a note propped against a set of keys.

_McNally, Went home early, took a cab. Here are the keys to the truck. –Sam. _

Andy thought it was odd that Sam would leave early after a big arrest so, forgetting about her shower, she stepped out of the locker room, hoping to find someone who could explain what was going on. Sweeping her eyes up and down the hallway's length she saw Oliver and Noelle walking together and called out to them. "Hey," she said, holding up the note that Sam left her, "Do you guys know why Sam left early?"

The two officers looked at each other in a tense, silent argument. Oliver rubbed his hand over his face, sighing.

"What is it?" Andy asked after a moment, worried.

Andy saw Noelle shake her head as if warning Oliver. He gave her a significant look and she stopped, crossing her arms over her chest. "It's your funeral," Andy heard the other woman mutter as she walked away.

Andy was growing more and more anxious. "Would someone please just tell me what's going on?"

"Come with me," Oliver said finally, "There's something you need to see."

Later, long after the sun had set, Andy pulled into the alleyway next to Sam's house and parked. She sat in the truck for a minute, still trying to process what Oliver had shown her.

Time passed, she wasn't sure how long, and she finally got out. The house was dark when she got inside. There was only one lamp on in the living room and by it Andy could see Sam sitting outside on the patio. He was looking out onto the street, drinking a beer.

Andy sighed and then grabbed her own beer out of the refrigerator. She figured she would probably need it.

She pulled the patio door open and stepped outside into the dark night. Sam turned his head at the noise, but didn't say anything. There was only one chair on the small patio, and Sam was occupying it, so Andy leaned her back against the cold metal railing. Even though she was standing right in front of him, Sam wouldn't look at her.

She took a sip of her beer and then broke the silence, her breath forming clouds in the bitterly cold air, "How'd you know the combination to my locker?"

In the darkness she could see his lips tug upward into a faint smile. "I've seen you open it about a dozen times."

"Ah."

He finally looked over at her. "You don't know mine?"

"38-15-26," Andy answered easily. "I've seen you open it a time or two as well."

Sam grinned before taking a deep breath and asking, "So I guess you heard what happened?"

"I saw it, actually," Andy admitted.

Sam's forehead wrinkled in confusion. "What?"

"You guys were videotaping the confession," she told him. "No one turned the recorder off."

"Well that's just," Sam shook his head and let out a low whistle, "Fantastic."

"Don't worry," Andy said, "The only people that know about it are Noelle, Oliver and Dov. I had Dov copy over the first part and then destroy the original. They don't really need it anyway, since you have the written confession."

"So you saw everything?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," Andy confirmed.

Sam was silent. He swallowed hard and then said, "I'm sorry."

It was Andy's turn to be confused. "Why are you sorry?" She asked, her brow furrowing.

"He pissed me off," Sam told her, "I said things I probably shouldn't have said."

"You don't have anything to apologize for, so just stop," Andy pleaded. "Luke was being a jackass, I can't believe you were able to control yourself like you did."

Sam admitted, "I really wanted to punch him."

"I know you did," Andy said, laughing softly even though it wasn't funny. "I saw you make a fist a couple times. I was actually afraid for Luke, not that he didn't deserve it."

"Yeah, well.." Sam trailed off, shrugging.

"I'm sorry Sam," Andy said.

Sam looked at her, confused, "What for?"

Andy blew out a short puff of air and pushed her hair out of her eyes, "A lot of things, really. I'm sorry that Luke said all of those things to you," Sam waved it off, "And I'm sorry that I was just so…" She shook her head, trying to come up with the word, "Blind."

"Andy, look…" Sam started but Andy interrupted him.

"No, let me finish. I did have feelings for you," she admitted, "But then when things got more involved with Luke I just pushed those feelings aside and got really good at ignoring them. I didn't even think about what it must have been like for you." She felt sick to her stomach thinking about all the crap that she had put him through, all the times that she had turned to him about her problems with Luke. "I thought we could just be friends but now I realize how unfair that was to you."

"Andy, don't do that, don't beat yourself up. You didn't know and I didn't say anything. It's fine," Sam said, standing up to lean on the rail beside her. "Really. It's in the past and if it's okay with you I'd rather not relive it… again."

Andy nodded uncertainly, "Okay."

Sam cleared his throat, "If you don't want to stay here anymore, I'll pay for a hotel until your apartment is ready."

Andy took a step back, "What?" She asked, taken aback. She grabbed the sleeve of his jacket and tugged it, forcing him to look at her. "Why would you say that?"

"If you're uncomfortable staying here, I understand."

"Oh God," Andy said, rolling her eyes. "You're such a idiot sometimes. I don't want to go anywhere."

"You don't?"

"No!" She exclaimed. "Why would you even think that?"

"Well, I gotta be honest," Sam said, "I don't really know where we stand right now."

Andy was quiet for a moment, studying him in the darkness. "Sam, this thing, you and me," she said, motioning between the two of them. She took a deep breath and squinted, admitting, "Whatever it is, I know it's real. And I know I want it." She paused and then rambled on, "I just know I'm not ready. And I know that's incredibly selfish and I have no right to ask you to wait until I am because you've already waited so long for me to figure it out, but that's what I'm doing. I'm asking for you to wait until I'm ready. And I'm sorry for that. I'm so, so sorry."

Sam had been nodding slowly while she spoke and when she got to the end he smiled at her, a soft, understanding smile. "You done?" He asked.

She just nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

Sam set his own beer on the small table and then reached for hers. She handed it to him and he set it down as well.

"Will you come here, please?" He requested hoarsely, holding his hand out to her. She took it and allowed herself to be pulled into his arms. Andy twined her own arms around his slim waist and rested her head against his shoulder. They stood there in silence, listening to the sounds of the city and watching as cars drove by.

Sam finally spoke. "I think, whether you admit it or not, that you already knew."

Andy nodded against him, knowing exactly what he was talking about. "Yeah, I guess I did," she confessed.

"So it's really not like anything has changed," Sam said. "I was good with where we were and where I thought we were headed."

"Where were we, exactly?" Andy asked quietly.

"Well, from what I recall, you were kissing me and taking my clothes off, so if you want to start there I'm fine with that," Sam joked, laughing as Andy elbowed him in the stomach. "I'm kidding. I don't know, Andy," he admitted, "But I was happy. Were you happy?"

"Yeah," Andy agreed, "I was happy."

"Okay," Sam said, "So we don't need to talk this thing to death. We are where we are and we'll move forward when we're both ready, how does that sound?"

Andy looked up at him and smiled. "That sounds good."

"Good." He pressed his lips against her forehead in a tender kiss. "Now," he asked, tilting his head towards his house,"Are you ready to move this thing inside? Because I'm starting to lose feeling in my extremities."

Andy laughed. "Yeah," she said, pulling him towards the door. "I think I'm ready for that."


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Thank you for the kind and encouraging words! You guys are awesome.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Oliver," Andy called out, sliding up next to him at the snack machine. "You're just the person I was looking for."<p>

"Well isn't it my lucky day," Oliver replied with false enthusiasm.

"That it is," Andy responded pleasantly, undeterred by the officer's mood. "I need your help."

"Everyone always needs my help," Oliver mused, peering into the vending machine, considering his options. "No one ever says, 'Oliver, is there something I can help you with today'?"

Andy smiled patiently and indulged him. "Oliver, is there something I can help you with today?"

"Yeah," Oliver answered, fishing change out of his pocket. He counted it up quickly and then said, "I need five cents."

"Sorry, I don't carry change," Andy told him.

"Crackers it is then," Oliver grumbled, putting his money into the machine. When he noticed Andy was still standing next to him he asked, "What is it you wanted?"

"Okay," Andy grinned. She glanced around and then lowered her voice, "Sam's birthday is coming up."

"Ah, yeah," Oliver said, ripping the plastic package open, "Just a few days. Forty, right?"

"Yeah," Andy confirmed. "And his sister is coming into town and we're all going out to dinner."

"That's so nice," Oliver said. "Getting in good with the family. Good plan, McNally."

Andy ignored his teasing. "Sam thinks dinner is the only thing we're doing for his birthday, but I think it would be fun to throw him a surprise party."

"Sam hates parties," Oliver said immediately, shaking his head.

"I know he thinks he hates parties," Andy said, "But when was the last time he actually had a party?"

Oliver bit off a piece of cracker and chewed slowly, considering her question. "Good point."

"Thank you. So," Andy hesitated, "I kind of need your help to pull it off."

"Ah," Oliver nodded before he quickly declined, "No."

"Oh come on Oliver," Andy whined, "We'll do it at Sam's house, I'll have everything ready for you, you'll just have get it set up. And I'll get Traci to help you."

"I don't know McNally."

"He's your best friend Oliver," Andy reminded him, not above guilting him into helping her. "Your best friend."

Oliver exhaled heavily. "When is this party?"

"Saturday night," Andy said, hopefully.

"Kind of short notice, isn't it?"

"Well I only found out it was his birthday a week ago," Andy explained. "And last night was the first time that I've gotten to talk to Sarah to make sure she was cool with it. Come on," she implored him. "It's just setting out some food and turning on some music. It won't be a big deal."

Oliver was quiet for a moment. "I'm not blowing up any balloons," he declared. "I have two daughters, I've blown up enough balloons to last me a lifetime."

Andy grinned, "No balloons, promise."

"And if it goes south, you're taking the fall for it," Oliver warned.

Andy held up her right hand and promised, "I will take full responsibility."

"Fine." Oliver paused and then sighed dramatically. "I'll do it."

She was about to thank him profusely but they were interrupted. "Do what?" Sam asked, coming up behind his friend.

Andy jumped in surprise at Sam's sudden appearance but Oliver covered smoothly, "Team up with McNally here at darts tonight. That is," he challenged, "If you guys actually show up at the Penny."

"Mmmm," Andy said, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head. "I don't know if I can fit that in."

"We still have that whole season of Law & Order to finish up," Sam said.

Andy nodded. "And when we finish the original series there's always Criminal Intent and Special Victims Unit."

"That's probably going to take what? A good two, three months?" Sam said, playing along.

"Oh, at least," Andy agreed.

"Seriously?" Oliver asked, looking between the partners. "You guys are like a boring, old, married couple."

"We are not boring," Andy scoffed.

"Or married," Sam added.

"And only one of us is old," Andy finished with a grin.

Sam looked at her and smirked, which she returned in kind. "Cute." He turned back to Oliver. "I think we can probably make it tonight buddy."

"Hey Andy!" Traci called from down the hall, "Can you come here for a second?"

"Yeah, sure," Andy replied. She smiled at the two men in front of her before heading off, "See you guys later."

An awkward silence fell over Sam and Oliver them as they watched Andy walked down the hallway.

Oliver cleared his throat, "Listen, Sammy, I just wanted to make sure that we were good."

Sam crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Why wouldn't we be?"

"Well, you know," Oliver said, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. When Sam shook his head, Oliver clarified. "The tape."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "Ah," he deduced. "You were the one that showed her."

Oliver blinked. "McNally didn't tell you it was me?"

Sam shook his head. "Nope. She told me she saw it but she never mentioned who showed her."

"Oh, well, I guess you know now. Listen, I would have talked to you yesterday but my daughter had a piano recital and I didn't want to show up with a black eye," Oliver said, rubbing out an imaginary scuffmark on the floor with his toe. He squinted back up at his friend. "You mad?"

Sam shrugged his shoulders, "Am I mad that you butted into my personal life and showed Andy a private conversation that should never have been recorded?"

"Look," Oliver said, defending himself, "I thought it was the right thing to do at the time. She deserved to know."

"You didn't trust that I could handle it?" Sam asked.

Oliver shook his head. "No," he admitted. "Not really. No offense, I love you brother, but you're kind of emotionally stunted."

Sam's eyes widened. "Emotionally stunted?" He repeated, baffled.

"Yeah," Oliver said. "Trust me, it was for your own good. You needed some help."

"Huh." Sam said, nodding his head slowly.

"What?" Oliver asked.

"Well I was going to tell you that all was forgiven but now that you've called me emotionally stunted," Sam held his hands up, "I don't what to think."

Oliver fixed him with a look. "You know it's true."

Sam was quiet, thinking. He finally sighed. "Fine."

"Fine, like, you're not mad?" Oliver guessed.

"I am not mad," Sam confirmed.

Oliver grinned, "So I take it everything's okay with you and McNally."

"Yeah man," Sam chuckled, "Everything's good."

"Good," Oliver said, relieved. He put his hand Sam's shoulder. "You know I just want you to be happy."

Sam glanced at the hand on his shoulders and then back to his friend. "Are you going to hug me?" He asked.

"I'm thinking about it," Oliver confirmed.

"Don't do that," Sam warned.

Oliver didn't remove his hand. "I feel like it's a hugging moment."

"It's not," Sam said quickly, "We don't need to hug."

"Yes, we do brother," Oliver said, reaching around Sam. "It's a manly hug, come on."

Sam rolled his eyes but nevertheless allowed Oliver to hug him. He even joined in and slapped his friend on the back a couple of times for good measure.

Later that night, after they made it home from the Penny and had gone to bed, Andy woke up when she heard a car door slamming. She reached over to grab her phone but her fingers found a piece of paper instead. She sat up quickly and turned on the lamp beside the bed. It was a note from Sam, letting her know that Boyd needed him again.

Andy knew that trying to go back to sleep was a lost cause, so she grabbed her pillow and headed downstairs. She settled onto the couch and flipped on the television, ready for a long night of infomercials.

It had been two days since she and Sam had their conversation about the state of their relationship and in that time not much had changed, at least on the surface. Physically, things hadn't progressed at all. Sam was still his usual flirtatious self with her, but she suspected that he was waiting on her to make the first move in that area.

Emotionally, though, they both recognized that their relationship was deepening. There was comfort and security in knowing they both wanted the same thing. After their talk, there was an openness and an honesty that hadn't been there before. She felt comfortable telling him what she was ready for and what she wasn't, knowing that he wouldn't push her one way or the other, that he didn't expect more from her than what she was able to give.

When she was with Luke, she always felt like they were out of sync, never quite on the same page. One was always ready to move forward and just expected the other to catch up. With Sam, even though they were in the very beginning stages of their relationship, she felt understood.

It was a good feeling, she thought. A very good feeling.

She was watching the infomercial for the Magic Bullet and was seriously considering ordering one when her phone rang. She knew it could only be one person and multiple scenarios of why Sam would be calling her, all of which ended with him in the hospital, flashed through her mind before the phone could ring a second time. "Hello?" She answered anxiously.

"Hey," Sam said. Andy could hear someone talking to him in the background. "I need you."

She took a cab downtown, asking the driver to drop her off at the address Sam had given her. She spotted the SUV he told her he'd be driving and walked over to him, putting a little swagger in her hips in case anyone was watching.

He had spotted her in the rearview mirror and by the time she made it to his window it was already rolled down. "Hey," Sam said as she approached.

"Hi," Andy replied, looking in the window and nodding over at passenger. "Boyd," she said tightly as a greeting.

"McNally," he replied, tipping his head.

"Here he is," Sam said, handing her a picture of the undercover officer. "Real name Tyler Greene. He's going by Ryan Gates.

"Ryan Gates," Andy repeated, mumbling to herself as she studied his picture.

"He's in there," Sam said, pointing to a bar down the street from where the SUV was parked. "Our guy works as the bartender, said he's been there for a while and has been drinking heavily and talking the whole time. He hasn't said anything too damaging yet, but we need to get him out before he does."

"Who's he with?" Andy asked.

"We don't know for sure," Sam said. "Our CI recognized one guy, Alex Turner, as a local dealer."

"Shouldn't you guys have a plan for this?" Andy asked, directing her question towards Boyd. Undercover officers were really not supposed to drink on the job; loose inhibitions and loose lips could compromise the agent's cover and the operation as a whole.

"We do." He smirked at her. "You're it. Of course you could have slutted it up a little more. You look like you're on your way to church."

Andy narrowed her eyes at him, "Sorry, I didn't have time to stop at Hookers 'R' Us on my way down here to save your ass." She yanked her coat open, exposing her very revealing top. "Is this good enough for you?"

"You look fine," Sam said, interrupting the escalating argument. He shot Boyd a warning look before turning to Andy. "You know your story?"

When Sam called her earlier he had explained that neither he nor Boyd could be seen with the undercover agent without risk of exposing his identity as a cop. If they could get the agent out without blowing his cover, there was still hope for the operation. That was where she came in.

"Yep," she said, nodding firmly and she closed her coat. "Girlfriend, prostitute, whatever it takes to get him out of there."

"Right, use your judgment," Sam told her. "You shouldn't have a problem but if you're not out in ten minutes I'm coming in after you."

"I've got it Sam, I'll be fine," she assured him with a gentle smile.

"We're gonna pull into that alley," Sam said, pointing up the road. "If you get him out without anyone following you, meet us there. If someone sees you, just get into a cab and call me once you're inside."

"Got it." She glanced over at Boyd. "Any last minute instructions from you?"

"Just don't screw it up," he replied sharply.

"I'll do my best," Andy responded, pushing away from the SUV.

She spotted Greene sitting at the bar. His hair was longer than in the picture and he had grown his beard out, but she recognized him immediately. He was holding a glass of what looked like scotch and was talking to the guy that sat next to him.

Andy opened her coat and fluffed her hair before moving further into the bar.

"There you are," she said, gliding her fingers over Greene's hunched shoulders as she slid onto the barstool next to him. Andy pulled off her coat, exaggerating the movement so Greene got an eyeful of cleavage. She waited until his glazed eyes rose to meet hers and then pointedly said, "Donovan told me you would be here." She hoped that even in his drunken state he would recognize Boyd's first name and figure out what was going on.

The guy on the other side of Greene looked at her suspiciously. "Who are you?"

"I'm Ryan's girlfriend," she said matter-of-factly, raising an eyebrow. "Who the hell are you?"

"You never said you had a girlfriend," the guy said to Greene, ignoring her question. From the way he stumbled over the word "girlfriend" Andy figured she had a pretty good shot of not being remembered in the morning.

Andy spoke up before Greene could answer him. "I'm not surprised," she said, narrowing her eyes. "He likes to forget he has a girlfriend when I go out of town." She turned her attention back to Greene. "But I'm in town now," she said, slowly running her hand up his thigh, "And I was hoping we could," she tilted her head towards the door and then slowly swiped her tongue over her top lip, "Get out of here."

Even if he didn't catch on to what was going on, Andy was hoping the implied promise of a good time would be enough to lure him out. As Greene stared at her, slack-jawed, she was thankful of alcohol's ability to turn men into bumbling idiots. She tilted her head towards the door again and then winked at him.

Greene nodded. "Uh, yeah," he said, standing up from the stool. He stumbled and Andy caught him, allowing him to wrap and arm around her shoulder.

"He hasn't paid yet," Greene's bar friend told her.

Andy pursed her lips and shot him an annoyed glance. "Fine," she said, stabilizing Greene against the bar and reaching into her purse. As she was fumbling around for the cash she knew was in there, she felt Greene wrap his hand around her waist and settle it on her butt. She went with it, leaning into him as she waved the bartender down and paid for his drinks. When he started planting sloppy kisses against her neck she resisted the urge to roll her eyes and stepped back from the bar, pulling him with her.

"It was nice to meet you…" She looked back at his friend, "I didn't catch your name."

"Alex," the guy said.

"Alex," she repeated, reminding herself to tell Sam whom Greene had been talking to, "Right. Goodnight."

Alex had already turned his attention away from them and didn't respond.

She started slowly making her way out of the bar, trying not to run into anyone. Greene wasn't being much help as he seemed to be more concerned with nuzzling her neck, his coarse beard scratching against her skin.

She finally made it out onto the street and down to where she knew Sam and Boyd were parked. She didn't think anyone had followed them, but she quickly glanced back at the bar to make sure before turning into the alley.

Greene had slumped against her side; apparently the physical exertion of being carried out of the bar was too much for him. He was getting heavier with every step she took and the stripper heels she wore were not making things any easier. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw Sam hop out of the SUV to help her. He took Greene from her, quickly asking her if she was okay.

"Yeah," she said, running her hands over her coat sleeves as if she could wipe Greene off of her, "I'm fine."

Boyd got out to help as well and he and Sam got Greene, who at that point was mumbling incoherently, settled into the backseat.

Andy was not about to ride back there with him, so she slipped into the vacant passenger's seat. Boyd saw her and narrowed his eyes. She fixed him with a withering look, almost daring him to say something to her.

He got the message and slid in next to Greene without a word.

"We'll take him to my house," Sam said, climbing driver's seat and pulling his seat belt across his chest. "Let him sleep it off and then decide what to do in the morning."

"Fine," Boyd agreed.

They made it to Sam's without a problem. "Just take him in there," Sam said, pointing Boyd in the direction of his bedroom. Boyd helped Greene into the room as Sam and Andy walked into the kitchen. Andy pulled out a couple of water bottles from the refrigerator and handed one to Sam.

Sam scanned the living room, taking in the pillow and blanket on the couch. He raised an eyebrow at Andy.

"What?" She snapped. She was tired, irritated and her feet hurt. She was in no mood to be teased. "Like you would sleep if I was the one out there?"

"I didn't say anything," Sam said innocently, a small smile playing on his lips.

"Alright," Boyd said, walking out of Sam's room. "I'll be back in the morning." He looked at Andy and offered, "You need a ride home?"

She snorted. Like she would ever voluntarily spend time alone with him, let alone in a confined space. "No," she said, taking a sip of her water. She cleared her throat. "I'm fine."

"Seriously," Boyd pressed, feeling the slightest bit guilty for riding her case the way he had. "I'll drop you off."

Andy just looked over at Sam. He seemed to know what she was asking. "She's fine here," he told Boyd. "Go home."

Boyd waited a beat, looking between the two partners, and then, putting the pieces together, smirked. "I knew you two were sleeping together." To Sam, he asked, "She's why you won't go back undercover, isn't she?"

Before Sam could respond, Andy slammed her water bottle down on the counter, her eyes flashing with anger. "You've just got it all figured out, don't you?"

Boyd grinned at her and then asked Sam, "Is she feisty like that in bed?"

Sam caught Andy just as she was about to lunge at Boyd. "Okay, okay," Sam said, stepping in front of her. "I think it's probably time for you to go," he said to Boyd, pointing in the direction of the door. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Bright and early," Boyd responded cheerfully. With one last wink at Andy, he turned and walked out of the house.

Sam waited until he heard the front door close and then turned to Andy, trying to suppress an amused grin. "Were you going to hit him?"

"No." Andy huffed, stepping away from him and crossing her arms over her chest. "I thought about it though."

"Why?"

"I don't like him," she offered as explanation. "His runs his operations like a crapshoot, he's reckless and he's going to get someone hurt. And since you run around at all hours of the night for him, that someone could be you." Sam couldn't help but grin as she rambled on. He moved to stand right in front of her and she eyed him warily. "Why are you laughing at me?"

"I like it when you're feisty," Sam told her, pulling on her arms to uncross them.

"Well I can't help it. He's an ass," Andy declared, settling her hands on his hips as he took a step towards her.

"I'm an ass," Sam said, pushing the sides of her coat open and tightening his fingers around her waist. He pulled her flush against him. "And you like me."

He was grinning down at her and Andy felt her sour mood begin to melt away. She snaked her arms around his neck, pressing herself even closer to him. "You're not always an ass." She dropped one hand to the curve of his backside and gave it a gentle squeeze. "And it helps that you have a very nice one."

"Are you groping me, Officer McNally?" Sam asked, his voice suddenly huskier than normal.

Andy smiled, allowing her other hand to drop as well. "Are you complaining, Officer Swarek?"

Sam pressed a kiss against her temple. "Not even a little bit." Andy closed her eyes rested her head against him, enjoying the feel of his solid body against her own. She slid her hands up under his coat and rested them on his back, gently massaging the muscles there.

"You did good tonight," he told her, muttering against her skin. She felt him pull back and her eyes fluttered open to find him looking at her.

Andy grinned. "Well you know," she said with false modesty, dipping her eyes to look pointedly at her very low cut top, "I just used my wits."

"Oh yeah," Sam said, unashamedly staring down at her chest, "Your, uh, wits are no match for any man." He ran his hands up her arms and then cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. She tilted her head to the side, leaning into his hand, and he caught a glimpse of her neck.

"What's that?" He asked, pushing her hair out of the way to get a better look.

"What?" Andy asked, immediately reaching up to touch her neck, afraid that something might be on her.

"Your neck is all red and scratched up," Sam said, running his fingers over the marred skin.

"Oh, that," Andy replied, pushing his hands away, "It's probably from Greene's beard. I swear," she said, remembering back to when she first met Sam, "I don't know why you guys think going undercover means no longer having to shave."

"Why was Greene's beard on your neck?" Sam asked, still fixated on her skin.

While Sam studied her neck, she studied him. Andy quickly realized that, whether he would admit to it or not, he was jealous. With an amused grin she replied, "Well, I was playing his girlfriend."

"So you had to kiss him?" Sam asked. His voice was low and controlled. Too controlled. Andy knew he was trying not to sound upset.

"No," Andy said, explaining calmly, "I didn't kiss him but I didn't stop him from kissing me. We were going for realistic, remember?"

"You can be realistic without exchanging bodily fluids," Sam informed her.

"Oh please," Andy said, scrunching her nose with disgust. "It's not like we did it on the bar." She took in his forced neutral expression and then asked, puzzled, "You're not seriously upset about this, are you?" When he didn't say anything she reminded him, "You kissed me when we were Edie and Gabe."

Sam raised an eyebrow. "That was different," he claimed.

"How so?" Andy challenged, feeling herself starting to get irritated. Sam, her partner, had never questioned her before. Why was he questioning her now?

Sam thought for a moment. "Well, Gabe," he admitted quietly, reaching up to push a strand of hair off her face, "Was pretty worried that he might not see Edie again."

Andy smiled, her temper calmed by the admission. "Well, Edie was pretty worried that she might not see Gabe again too," she told him, bringing her hand to Sam's cheek and making him look at her. "And Andy was pretty terrified she might not see Sam again."

Sam smiled and leaned into her. "Yeah?" he asked, brushing his nose against hers.

"Yeah," she replied, standing to her tiptoes so she could touch her lips to his. He responded gently, with equal pressure, keeping the kiss innocent and sweet while his fingers tangled in her hair.

Andy pulled back first, making eye contact with him before quickly pecking his lips again and settling back down on her feet.

Sam smiled down at her, chagrined. "Are you going to kiss me every time I act like a jealous idiot?"

"Nope," Andy said, shaking her head. "That was a one time deal. You won't be able to sweet talk your way out of it next time." She paused and then asked seriously, "Do you trust me Sam?"

"Of course I trust you," he said. "I'm sorry," he added, almost whispering the apology. He bent his knees slightly, capturing her lips with his once again. He wrapped one of his hands around to her back and placed the other on the counter behind her, steadying himself as Andy twined her arms around his neck. She pulled him down to her, deepening the kiss, her tongue running along his lower lip, seeking entrance. He obliged, parting his lips as he leaned closer in to her.

The counter dug into her back uncomfortably, but she didn't care, she was too wrapped up in enjoying the feel of Sam's lips moving gently but persistently against her own. It wasn't a kiss that was meant to lead anywhere, and she sighed contentedly against him.

Sam broke away first, breathing heavily, and touched his forehead to hers. "Thanks for coming down tonight."

"Well, you did _need _me," Andy reminded him of his words to her. "What else was I supposed to do?" Sam just grinned down at her, shaking his head. "Thanks for calling me," she continued, resting her hands against his chest. "And trusting me."

"You're welcome," he replied, smiling softly. "You ready to go to sleep?"

Andy nodded. "Yeah," She said, yawning. All of a sudden she was exhausted, as if the mere mention of sleep was enough to remind her body of how little she'd had.

"Okay," Sam said, nodding slightly as he pushed away from her. She immediately missed the heat from his body. When she noticed him heading towards the living room, her brow knit together in confusion.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

Sam motioned to the couch. "Greene's in my room. I'm just gonna crash here."

When she realized he was serious about staying on the couch, she rolled her eyes. "Sam, don't be stupid," she said. "Come upstairs with me."

Sam hesitated. As exhausted as he was, he still wasn't sure how good of an idea it was to share a bed with her. "Andy…"

"To sleep, Sam," she said, making her intentions clear. "Just to sleep."

He scratched his forehead, looking between Andy and the couch. "I don't know."

She put a hand on her hip. "This is your house, Sam. You're not going to sleep down here when I have a perfectly good bed upstairs. Come on," She said, holding her hand out to him. "We both need to get some sleep and trust me, you won't get any on that couch."

Sam cast one last glance at the couch and then reluctantly walked over to her. "Fine," he agreed, taking hold of her extended hand.

"Try not to sound so thrilled about it," Andy teased, pulling him towards the stairs.

He let her lead, his hand finding its way to her jean clad bottom as she scampered up the stairs in front of him. "I don't usually take pleasure in torturing myself," he muttered.

She just grinned back at him and winked. "We can build a pillow barrier, if that'll help."

They didn't build a pillow barrier, but Sam was careful to stay on his side of the bed. Before she had fallen asleep, Andy had reached her hand across the bed and he'd taken it, intertwining their fingers. That was the extent of their physical contact but Sam still drifted off to sleep with a smile on his face.

He woke up the next morning turned on his side, facing the window. There was a warm, solid presence behind him. He turned over and found Andy curled beside him, awake and staring at the ceiling.

When she felt him stir she turned her head. She looked at him with bleary eyes and smiled. "Good morning."

"Good morning," he replied, returning her smile. "What are you doing?"

"Waiting for you to wake up," she admitted.

"What time is it?" He asked, his voice still hoarse with sleep. He blinked his eyes, trying to focus them in the early morning. His pounding, foggy head told him that they hadn't gotten near enough sleep.

"Almost eight," Andy told him. "Boyd should be here soon."

"Why didn't you go downstairs?" Sam asked, running a hand over his face.

"I didn't want to run into Greene by myself. And you're really warm," she confessed, yawning. "I didn't want to get up."

Sam chuckled, "You just want me for my body heat."

"Something like that," Andy said quietly.

Sam was quiet, looking intently at Andy. She had makeup smudged under her eyes and her hair was matted to one side, but she still looked beautiful. He wanted to reach out and take her in his arms, but he resisted.

As if she could read his mind, Andy smiled gently at him and spoke in almost a whisper. "You can touch me, you know."

If it were possible to smirk shyly, Sam Swarek accomplished it. "You're giving me permission?" He asked, half kidding, half serious.

All kidding was gone when she nodded, "I am."

Sam ran his hand up her arm, feeling her skin pucker with goosebumps at his touch. He smiled, relishing in the knowledge that he had the same effect on her that she did on him. He briefly considered what else he could make pucker under his fingertips, but quickly pushed the thought out of his mind as he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him.

Andy snuggled up to his chest, her own hands finding their way around to his back, her fingers tracing sweeping patterns against his warm skin. She pressed a kiss against his bare shoulder and asked, "How'd you sleep?"

"Fine," he answered, kissing the top of her head.

"Better than the couch?"

"Most definitely."

She smiled up at him, "Good."

Sam took the opportunity to tilt his head down and brush his lips against hers. At first she responded eagerly but then, out of nowhere, her hand slipped between them and she pushed him away.

He looked down at her, raising a questioning eyebrow.

Her face flushed as she told him, "I haven't brushed my teeth yet."

She could feel his laughter rumble deep in his chest. "I don't care, McNally," he said, pulling her back to him. He claimed her lips once again, gently at first but intensifying quickly. His hand travelled up her side, ghosting over the thin camisole that she wore, and tangled through the silky strands of her hair.

With her encouragement, and without breaking contact with her lips, he rolled them over so she was on her back. Her hands skimmed over his shoulders and one leg hitched up around his hips, allowing him to settle between her legs. She parted her lips and he slipped his tongue between them, exploring, deepening the kiss.

Just as Sam was pushing the hem of her camisole up, the doorbell rang. At first they ignored it, but whoever was down there began banging on the door. "Sammy!" They could hear. "It's Boyd."

It was Andy that let out a frustrated groan. Sam smoothed her shirt back down over her stomach and then pushed himself up on one elbow, grinning down at her. "It's your best friend," he said, laughing at her expression.

Andy narrowed her eyes at him. "I really hate that guy."


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: As always, you guys are awesome! Thank you for the feedback and encouragement!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

* * *

><p>Sam squinted into the darkness, trying to read the red numbers on his alarm clock. He groaned when he saw that only seven minutes had passed since he last checked.<p>

If he thought it was difficult to sleep with Andy under his roof before, it was downright impossible now that their relationship had progressed. Specifically, now that he'd spent a night in her bed.

He'd told himself, as he kissed her goodnight and watched her walk up the stairs the last couple of nights, that it was good they were sleeping in separate rooms. He meant it when he said that they could take things slowly and that he would wait until she was ready to move forward. Of course he would. He'd waited for her throughout her entire drama-ridden relationship with Callaghan, he'd be an idiot to give up now.

If he slept in her bed again he knew that there was little chance he would be able to stay true to his word.

It wasn't even necessarily sex that he wanted, even though of course that was part of it. It had been far too long since he'd actually had sex, longer than he'd ever gone before in his adult life. He tried not to think too much about it because it was depressing.

He just craved being near her. Being able to reach out and touch her, to kiss her whenever he wanted. He'd been denied that simple pleasure for so long that once he got a little taste of it, he couldn't help but want more.

He suspected that if he showed up at her door and asked to join her in bed, she would let him. He'd considered it more times than he cared to admit, but somehow, through some feat of willpower and self-control he hadn't known he possessed until that point, he remained in his own bed.

He let out a heavy sigh, frustrated more with himself than the situation, and flipped to his stomach, willing himself to fall asleep.

Andy thought it was strange that Sam wasn't awake when she first went downstairs to get her coffee. He was usually up before she was, especially on mornings when they had to go to work, with the coffee already brewing. She didn't think too much about it and went back upstairs to take her shower.

When she came back down and it appeared he still wasn't awake, she started to worry. She checked to see if his truck was there, just in case she had missed a note telling her he was out, and found it where he usually parked.

She debated what to do. They had a little bit of time before they had to leave for work, but if he didn't get up soon they were going to be late. She walked over to his bedroom and listened at the door, thinking that maybe he was in the shower. She didn't hear anything.

"Sam," Andy called softly, tapping against his door. When she didn't hear a response she tried again, a little louder, "Sam."

Again there was no response, so she pushed his door open and walked into his room. Sam was there, sprawled out on the bed and still sleeping. She checked the clock to see when his alarm was set for and realized that he must have slept through it.

Andy sat down on the edge of the bed and reached out to shake his shoulder gently. "Sam," she said, "Sam, wake up." She shook his shoulder again and he began to stir.

He opened his eyes and blinked several times, then groaned and pulled a pillow over his head to block out the morning light. "What?" He asked groggily.

"Hey," she said gently. "I think you slept through your alarm."

"What time is it?" Came his voice from under the pillow.

"We need to go in about thirty minutes," Andy told him, chuckling softly as she lifted the pillow off of him.

Sam sighed and then, before Andy could react, reached out and wrapped his arm around her waist, dragging her onto the bed with him.

"Sam!" She protested, laughing and struggling against him. "We have to go work."

She was no match for him, really, and he easily pulled her back against his chest, spooning her from behind. "We still have time," he mumbled, pulling the covers up over them. He kissed the skin where her neck and shoulder met and Andy gave up her half-hearted struggle, relaxing into him.

She fit against him perfectly. He ran one hand up her arm and then she felt him tugging at her hair band. "I hate when you wear your hair like this," he said sleepily, running his fingers through the strands and loosening the braid.

Andy couldn't help but smile, amused that he had given any thought whatsoever to how she wore her hair. "Are you okay?" She asked, concerned about his uncharacteristic lethargy.

"Just tired," Sam admitted, yawning. "I didn't sleep well last night." He didn't say why.

"I hope you're not getting sick," Andy mused, running her fingers lightly over his forearm.

"I'm not getting sick," Sam replied dismissively, nuzzling against her neck. He slid his hand under her shirt and spread his fingers out over her stomach, his thumb stroking the delicate skin over her rib cage.

"I wouldn't be surprised if you were," Andy continued, thinking out loud. "Your immune system is probably shot. You eat like crap and you never sleep."

There were other systems of his body he wished she'd be more concerned with. "I ate an apple yesterday," he weakly defended himself. He closed his eyes and tightened his arms around her. "And if you hadn't woken me up I'd still be sleeping right now."

"Seriously though, when was the last time you got a solid eight hours of sleep?" Andy asked, undeterred by Sam's grumbling.

"I don't know McNally," Sam mumbled into her hair. "Will you stop talking and just lay here with me?"

"We have to get to work Sam," Andy said, giggling as she tried to twist free from his grasp. "And now I have to fix my hair again."

"Just five more minutes," he grumbled, hooking his leg over hers and pulling her tightly back against him. "Five minutes."

Andy sighed, her resistance fading as she sunk back down into the warm bed. "Fine," she said, quickly reaching to the bedside table. "I'm setting your alarm though. Five minutes, then we have to get up."

"Whatever," Sam said, already drifting back to sleep. Andy stayed awake the whole time, simply content to enjoy being in Sam's arms in the warm cocoon of his sheets and blankets.

When the alarm went off Sam groaned unhappily and rolled Andy beneath him, trapping her to the bed. She laughed as he kissed his way up her neck, growling as he went. Her hands tangled in the hair at his nape and she lifted his head off of her. "We have to go," she reminded him, smiling as she brought one hand around to cup his stubbly cheek.

He turned his head to kiss the palm of her hand and muttered, "I know." Resigned, he sighed before kissing her one last time and untangling himself and pushing off the bed. With a loving swat to her backside, he made his way to the shower.

They somehow made it to work on time and Andy quickly got changed. Instead of waiting for Sam by the locker room like she had become accustomed to doing, she hurried to the parade room and made her way over to the other rookies. She glanced back at the door once more to make sure Sam hadn't come in and then asked, "Hey, you guys are on for Sam's party, right?"

Chris nodded enthusiastically as Dov asked, grinning, "Are you kidding, a surprise party for Swarek? Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Gail just rolled her eyes, "I don't know why you're bothering with a party."

"Because it's his birthday," Andy said, as if it were obvious. "Come on, it'll be fun."

"Why don't you just get naked," Gail advised. "I'm sure he'd think that was a lot more fun." She ran her tongue along her top lip after the word "fun" and winked at Andy, her message clear. Looking over at Dov, she asked, "What do you think, Officer Epstein?"

Dov grimaced. "Gail is right," he said tightly. Gail smiled indulgently. Through clenched teeth Dov added, "Gail is _always _right."

Andy grinned at her friend. "Lose another bet?" She asked.

"Yes," Dov said, flinching with the admission. "Dammit."

"Well," Andy said, ignoring Gail's suggestion, "We have reservations at seven thirty, so I think if everyone is at his house by nine… "

"Andy," Traci interrupted, tipping her head towards the door of the parade room. Andy turned to see Sam walk in. He scanned the room, obviously looking for her. When his gaze landed on her she smiled at him and he winked back before pulling out the chair beside Jerry.

"Wow," Jerry exclaimed as Sam took the seat next to him. "You look like crap, man."

Sam accepted the insult, knowing it was true. "I haven't been sleeping well," He grumbled, stirring his coffee. He took a sip and almost spit it out. "Who made this?" he asked, holding the cup up to Jerry. "It's terrible." He tried another sip, his nose wrinkling with disgust as he swallowed the bitter liquid, coughing.

Jerry just raised an amused eyebrow.

"Hey guys," Oliver said, stealing a chair from another table and sliding up next to Sam. He rested his elbows on the table and asked, "What's going on?"

"Sammy here isn't getting his beauty rest," Jerry told Oliver, leaning across Sam to talk to the other man.

"Oh yeah," Oliver commiserated, cutting his eyes over to Andy. "McNally keeping you up? You know, you're really getting too old for that kind of thing. I know you wanna keep up with her because she's younger but you're gonna have to learn when to say enough is… "

He was cut off when Sam slapped him over the back of his head. "Ow, what was that for?" Oliver asked indignantly, reaching up to rub where Sam had hit him.

Sam took another sip of coffee and then looked back over at his friend. "It's not like that."

"Sam, buddy, it's okay. When Traci and I first got together…" Jerry started to say.

"We aren't sleeping together," Sam admitted quickly, mostly to keep Jerry from finishing his sentence. He must have spoken too loudly because the officer in front of them turned around. Sam just glared at him until he faced forward again.

"Oh," Oliver said, surprised. He leaned back in his chair until the front feet came off the ground and exchanged a look with Jerry behind Sam's back. Settling back down, Oliver hesitantly asked, "So is it the not sleeping together thing that's getting to you?"

Sam pinched the bridge of his nose and let his head fall forward. "We are not discussing this."

"Ding ding ding," Jerry said, sharing a knowing look with Oliver. "I think we have a winner."

"Barber," Best called, starting parade. "You ready to fill us in on the car-jacking?"

Jerry adjusted his tie, grabbed a stack of folders off the table and confidently strode to the front of the room. He taped a picture from a surveillance camera on the whiteboard and then addressed the gathered officers, explaining that another mid-sized luxury sedan had been taken the night before. It followed the same pattern as several recent car-jackings; a masked man wielding a gun approached the victim late at night in a parking garage. So far, no one had been hurt but they were having a hard time catching a break in the case.

That was until the night before, when the whole thing was caught on tape.

Local news media ran the surveillance video and tips began pouring into the station from people who reported seeing the silver Mercedes all over the city.

It was actually a noise complaint that led Oliver and Dov to what appeared to be a makeshift chop shop. They called for back up and Sam and Andy, being the closest unit, responded. While Andy flipped the lights and siren on and radioed them in, Sam checked the rearview mirror and jerked the steering wheel, pulling them into a dramatic U-turn in the middle of traffic.

"Well that was unnecessary," Andy remarked, chuckling as she clutched her seatbelt.

Sam shrugged in response, never taking his attention off the road.

Andy frowned. She could tell he had been in a mood all day, but decided it wasn't the most opportune time to get him to talk about whatever was bothering him.

They made it to the crime scene without incident, for which Andy was thankful, and helped Oliver and Dov take two men in for questioning. While one of the suspects stayed in holding, pacing back and forth in the small cell, Jerry and Oliver took a run at the other.

Andy and Sam watched from the viewing room.

Or rather, Sam watched the interrogation and Andy watched Sam.

He stood with his arms tightly folded across his chest in a way that made his biceps flex and bulge against the short-sleeved uniform shirt he wore. His jaw clenched and unclenched with each question that was asked and each non-answer that was given.

"This is getting ridiculous," he muttered, his eyes trained forward. "This guy's not giving anything up."

He leaned over and braced himself against the windowsill. With a heavy sigh, he worked his neck from side to side.

Andy sidled up next to him, unsure of what to do. She knew his frustration wasn't entirely related to the interrogation; he'd been distracted and tense long before they'd brought the guy in.

She reached her hand out and ran it up and down his back soothingly. At first he stiffened at her touch, but then she felt him relax under her hand.

Sam felt guilty as soon as she touched him. He knew that she could tell something was… off, and the last thing that he wanted to do was take it out on her.

He looked back and afforded her a small smile, which she returned. "You okay?" She asked, concerned.

Sam nodded quickly. "Yeah," he said, pushing himself to stand up straight. "Sorry, just tired." With a hand on the small of her back he directed her towards the door. "Let's take the other guy to interview two."

Her brow furrowed but she allowed herself to be lead out of the room. "Okay," she agreed, stepping into the hall.

After their shift she met him at his locker, asking if he wanted to go to the Penny with the others to celebrate closing the car-jacking case.

Wearily, he looked at her and asked if she would be okay with just going home.

She smiled and nodded in understanding before extending her hand. He took it, intertwining their fingers, and they walked out of the station together.

They barely made into the house when Sam, without warning, backed her against the wall and claimed her lips with his own, kicking the door closed. It wasn't the soft, gentle kiss she had come to expect from him. It was aggressive and hungry, his lips persistent against hers. One hand settled at the base of her neck, wrapping around to curl into her hair while the other grasped the curve of her waist, pulling her tightly against him. He swiped his tongue over her bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and biting down gently, causing her to gasp. He seized the opportunity to deepen the kiss and slipped his tongue between her parted lips.

All of a sudden his behavior that day made complete sense. He had been wound tighter than a drum and it wasn't because he was tired and it wasn't because he was upset about a case.

Sam Swarek was frustrated.

In a way, it was good to know that he was human.

She smiled against his lips at the thought. She knew he loved her, even though he hadn't said it to her he'd proved it over and over, but he had been so good about not pressuring her that she was beginning to wonder if he actually wanted her.

He nibbled along the shell of her ear, removing all doubt from her mind about whether or not he wanted her. His hands grazed over her collarbone, his lips trailing behind, and he slipped her coat from her shoulders. It fell to the ground in an ungraceful heap. She struggled to keep up, his hands felt like they were everywhere at once and it was making it difficult to concentrate, but she was finally able to work the zipper of his coat down and tug it off of him. Her hands immediately went to the hem of his shirt and she lifted it up, sliding her hands across the muscles of his abdomen, enjoying the way they tensed under her fingers and the hiss that the move elicited from him.

His lips found hers again as he pushed her back, steadying her against the wall as he continued his assault on her senses. She cupped her hands around his face as he trailed his hand down to rest on her rear. Then, in one fluid movement, he lifted her leg and hiked it around his waist, pressing into her. She moaned at the contact, her head falling back against the wall.

And then, as suddenly as it began, it ended. Sam tore his lips away from her, leaving her panting and dizzy. When she got her breathing under control she looked up at him. She waited until his unfocused eyes met hers. "Feel better?" She asked, her lips curling into a crooked smile.

Sam let out a short, choked laugh and took a step back from her, his hands still braced on either side of her body. "I think I just made it worse, actually," he confessed breathlessly, his voice ragged.

Andy smirked and hooked her fingers through his belt loops, pulling him back flush against her, not letting him hide. He let out a strangled groan and, emboldened by the sound, she worked the buckle of his belt and quickly slipped it free from his jeans.

"Andy, what are you…?" He tried pushing her hands away but she stopped him.

"I'm helping you out," she said, unbuttoning the top button of his jeans. "I think you need to relax." She paused. "Release a little tension."

Sam's eyes widened comically at her words and he tried to move away from her, but she held him close. "Andy, just stop. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have even… you don't have to…" he mumbled incoherently, fighting to stay in control.

"Sam," she said, and at the seriousness of her tone his gaze flew to meet hers. "I want to." She looked him dead in the eye, wanting him to know she meant what she was saying. "Do you want me to?"

His head fell against her shoulder and he could only nod as she slowly slid his zipper down. She slipped her small hand into his boxers. "Oh holy sh…" his curse was cut off when she covered his mouth with her own.

Later, after they had cleaned up and eaten dinner, they sprawled out on the couch together, watching TV. Sam had propped his head up at one end of the couch and pulled Andy on top of him, her body covering his.

"Hey Sam?" Andy said, resting her hand on his chest and propping her chin on top of it.

"Yeah?" he replied, lazily trailing his fingers up and down her back.

"When Sarah comes this weekend," she asked, drawing small shapes against his soft t-shirt, "Is she staying here?"

"No," Sam answered easily. "She hates staying in the city, she'll probably just go home after dinner."

"Oh," was Andy's soft, noncommittal response.

Sam shifted his gaze from the television and looked at her, suspicious. A small grin played on his lips. "Why?"

Andy shrugged innocently. "Just wondering." Sam quirked a quizzical eyebrow at her but she just smiled and rested her head back on his chest, feigning interest in the show they were watching.

It wasn't long before she felt his hand still on her back and heard him snoring softly. Even though she knew they'd regret sleeping there in the morning, she flipped the television off and pulled the blanket off the back of the sofa, covering them with it. With a small, satisfied smile, she curled against Sam and closed her eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

Author's Note: As always, thank you so much for reading and reviewing! Your feedback is so encouraging and always, always appreciated.

Author's Note 2: Holy hot McSwarek action! Was the last episode not awesome? I cannot wait for the next week!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

* * *

><p>The first thing Sam noticed when he woke up was Andy's very warm body pressed against his. The second thing he noticed was the fact that he had lost all feeling in his left arm, the arm that Andy was using as a pillow.<p>

He tried to stretch his arm out without disturbing her. When he couldn't figure out how to do that, he tried opening and closing his fist rapidly. His hand finally started tingling as blood returned to the extremity.

He checked his watch, squinting into the darkness, and found that they had only been asleep a couple of hours. As nice as it was to be curled up with Andy, Sam knew there was no way they could spend the whole night on the sofa.

Doing his best not to wake her up, Sam held her head up with his free hand while slipping his arm out from underneath her. He climbed over her so he could stand and then, bending down to hook one arm under her knees and the other under her neck, he lifted her into his arms.

She stirred, waking up. "What's going on?" she asked groggily, not fully awake.

"We fell asleep," Sam told her, whispering. He carried her towards the stairs. "I'm going to take you to your bed."

"Go to your room," Andy said, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his chest. "I want to stay with you."

Sam stopped walking. "Are you sure?" he asked.

Andy just yawned and nodded. "I was going to sleep on the couch with you, might as well sleep in your bed."

Sam was too tired to question her, not that he really wanted to, so he continued walking towards his room. He pushed the door open with his foot and carried Andy in, laying her on the bed and watching as she curled to her side.

He climbed in on the other side, intending to put space in between them, until he heard her say, "Sam, don't be stupid. Come over here." She reached her hand back to him and he took it, crawling over to where she was.

She pressed a kiss against his hand and then wrapped his arm around her waist, snuggling back into his chest. "Goodnight Sam," she whispered.

Sam tightened his hold on her. "Goodnight Andy."

A day later, the morning of his birthday, Sam woke up and without even opening his eyes, reached out to where Andy was supposed to be.

They had stayed passed their shift that day at work, helping Jerry prepare for a court case. Afterwards, they'd stopped by the Penny to see everyone and then they had eventually made their way home, exhausted. When Andy had looked at him, with those big brown eyes of hers, and asked if she could stay with him again, he'd grinned at her.

"You trying to get in my bed McNally?" He asked, She smiled back and he could have sworn that he saw a faint blush tint her cheeks. Without waiting for her to answer, he tilted his head towards his bedroom door and winked at her. "It's all yours."

Instead of finding her, the sheets were cold. He opened his eyes and rubbed them before reaching for his glasses on the nightstand. Padding out to the kitchen, he found her cooking something on the stove.

"Well there's something you don't see everyday," he joked, coming up behind her and kissing her neck.

"Haha, you're hilarious," she said, turning in his arms and kissing him quickly. Before he could pull her closer to him, she swatted him with the spatula. Pointing towards the counter stools she instructed, "You have to wait over there."

"What are you making?" He asked, obediently taking his seat at the counter. She handed him a cup of coffee and he smiled his thanks.

"Pancakes," she replied, taking a plate down from the cabinets above the sink. Careful to hide what she was doing from him, she topped the pancakes with whip cream and sprinkles and then stuck a candle in the stack, lighting it quickly with a match.

She turned around and grinned, "Happy Birthday!"

Sam laughed. "What the hell is that?"

Andy set the plate in front of him and explained, "Birthday pancakes."

"You know I'm forty, right?" Sam said, wrapping his arm around her waist, "Not eight?"

"It doesn't matter," Andy told him, "It's your birthday. It should be special. Now hurry up and blow the candle out, it's getting wax all over the pancakes."

Sam, fighting hard not to roll his eyes, humored her and quickly blew out the candle.

"Did you make a wish?" Andy asked, her eyes wide with excitement.

"Yep," Sam said, poking at the pancakes with his fork. "I wished I wouldn't have to eat these things. I think I may end up in a sugar-induced coma."

"God, you're such a grouch," Andy muttered, rolling her eyes. She let it slide because it was his birthday. "Here," she said, plating a stack of normal, non-whipped cream pancakes. "Eat these. I'll eat those."

Sam gratefully switched plates with her. She climbed onto the stool next to him, eagerly cutting into the pancakes. "Hey," he said, reaching over to take her hand. "Thank you. No one has ever made me birthday pancakes."

Her lips crooked into a small, shy smile. "You better get used to it then," she said, "Its kind of a tradition."

He raised an eyebrow, unable to suppress a grin. "So you think you'll be around for more birthdays, then?"

Andy shrugged noncommittally, "I was thinking about it." She answered. "What do you think about that?"

Sam also shrugged. "As long as you promise not to make me eat them," he said, "You can make me birthday pancakes for as long as you'd like."

Andy laughed and leaned over to kiss him. "I promise," she said.

Later that night, Andy entered Sam's room as she was putting on her earrings. He was behind the partially closed bathroom door and she called out to him, "Hey, you better hurry. Sarah will be here any minute."

"I'm ready," Sam grumbled, coming out from behind the door. "I'm ready."

When he stepped into the bedroom, Andy's eyes widened as she slowly swept them over him, from his feet all the way up to his hair, subconsciously pulling her bottom lip through her teeth.

Sam smirked. "Do I look okay?"

Andy nodded quickly, swiping her tongue over her lip. He stood before her in a dark gray, perfectly fitted suit with a white shirt and blue patterned tie. "Oh yeah," she said, taking a step towards him. "You look very handsome."

"You don't look so bad yourself, McNally," Sam said, trailing his fingers over the silky material of her dress. He looked back up at her and grinned, letting her know that she looked far better than _not so bad. _"Aren't you going to be cold though?" He asked, running his hand down her bare arm.

"Well," Andy said quietly, wrapping her arms around his waist, "I do plan to wear a coat."

"Oh," Sam said, raising his eyebrows as he leaned in to kiss her. "Always thinking, that's what I like about you."

She grinned back at him and was about to kiss him when the doorbell rang. "Sarah's here!" She exclaimed, turning and quickly walking towards the doors.

Sam laughed and followed, catching up with her just as she was opening the door. Sarah stood on his front porch, bundled up against the cold but wearing a brilliant smile. She looked just like the picture Andy had seen of her- dark curly hair and dark eyes.

"HI!" Andy said, holding the door open so Sarah could come into the house. "I'm Andy," she said, reaching out to hug the other woman, "It's so nice to finally meet you."

Sam looked on, amused, as Andy enthusiastically greeted his sister.

"It's nice to meet you too," Sarah said, chuckling as she pulled back from Andy and turned to Sam, holding her arms open.

"Sarah," Sam said, wrapping his arms around his sister. "It's good to see you."

"You too little brother," Sarah replied, taking his face in her hands. "You cleaned up well."

Sam looked down at his suit. "Well you know," he smirked, brushing his knuckles against his chest confidently. "I do try."

"Can I take your coat?" Andy asked Sarah, grinning widely.

"Well," Sarah said, looking at Sam, "I think we should probably go to the restaurant, right? I was running late because of traffic and we don't want to miss our reservation."

"Oh right," Andy said, laughing, "Of course. Let's go to the restaurant!"

"Okay," Sarah agreed, turning towards the door. She grinned at Sam on her way out, obviously entertained by Andy.

Sam held Andy back as Sarah walked out the door. "Nervous?" he asked, holding her coat as she slipped into it.

"Is it that obvious?" Andy asked. Sam raised an eyebrow. "Of course it is," Andy groaned, knowing the answer. "I'm sorry, she's your sister. It's just kind of a big deal."

"Why?"

Andy rolled her eyes. "Well I want her to like me."

Sam just laughed. "Relax," he said, taking her hand as they walked out of the house. "I promise you'll be fine. My sister is a lot nicer than I am."

Sam was right and they ended up having a perfectly lovely dinner. Andy eventually relaxed and felt more comfortable around Sarah, who was warm and friendly. Sarah enjoyed teasing her brother, telling Andy stories from when they were little and all of the trouble that he would get into.

She sobered though, when Sam excused himself to go to the bathroom. "Andy," she said, wiping her mouth with her napkin before setting in her lap. "You need to know something."

Andy set her fork down. "Okay."

Sarah studied Andy intently. "Even though he's my little brother, Sam has taken care of me my whole life," she said. "Once you get past the stubbornness and sarcasm, and trust me, I know there's a lot of it… but once you get past that, he's the most generous and kind man I know."

"I know," Andy said, nodding adamantly.

"He's only introduced me to one other woman," Sarah told her. Andy raised an eyebrow, surprised. Before they were even... whatever they were, Sam had invited her to dinner. "That little tart, what was her name..." Sarah thought for a moment, "Monica."

Andy nose wrinkled before she could control her reaction. "I've met her," she replied cooly.

"I did not like her," Sarah said, shaking her head. "She was fine, don't get me wrong, I just felt like there was something missing, like Sam wasn't really happy."

Andy nodded slowly, trying to understand what Sarah was telling her. "Okay."

Sarah smiled and put her hand over Andy's. "Sam's happy with you," she said simply.

Andy didn't get the chance to respond as Sam returned from the bathroom. Sarah removed her hand and then two women turned to Sam, both smiling.

He looked back and forth between them suspiciously. "What's going on?"

Andy just grinned. "Nothing," she said dismissively, "We were just commiserating over how stubborn you can be."

"Oh," Sam answered easily, perfectly fine with the line of conversation. Andy looked over at Sarah and smiled, hoping she could communicate how just happy Sam made her.

They said their goodbyes at the restaurant, Sarah explaining that she had to get back for work. She hugged both of them tightly before heading for her car.

Sam wrapped his arm around Andy's shoulder as they walked towards his truck. "See that wasn't so bad, was it?" He asked, kissing the top of her head.

Andy shook her head, circling her arms around his waist. "Nope, not at all."

When they made it back to the house, Sam went around to the other side of the truck and opened the door for Andy, helping her out. They huddled together against the cold as they made the short trip to the front door.

"McNally, I have to admit," Sam said, sweeping his eyes up and down the road, "I'm a little disappointed."

Andy's forehead wrinkled. "Why?"

"Well," he said, tightening his arm around her shoulder as they walked up the porch stairs. "I half expected a rave to be going on at my house when we got back from dinner."

"You said you didn't want a party," Andy reminded him, keeping her voice light.

Sam snorted. "You never listen to what I say."

"Please," Andy grinned, "I always listen to what you say."

Sam stopped on the top step. "Would you like a list of the times you have not listened to what I've said?"

"You actually have a list?" Andy asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well I haven't written it down or anything," Sam said, "But it starts with the very first day I met you, when I asked you not to arrest me."

Andy rolled her eyes, "Like I was going to listen to a drug dealer."

"Well, then the first day we worked together I told you to go back to the barn and wait for me there and did you do that? No," he said, answering his own question. "You didn't. Then there was the whole hooker detail, and the time I told you to be careful working with Callaghan and you ended up getting shot at. And the time you almost got beat by that homeless guy because you didn't draw your gun."

"Wow," Andy said, nodding with a tight smile, "You actually have a list."

"Three words McNally," Sam continued as he started to unlock the door. "Ray Donald Swann…"

"Okay Sam," Andy bit out. "I get your point."

"I'm just saying," Sam said, looking back at her as he pushed the door open, "You don't have the greatest…"

"SURPRISE!" The noise rang out when Sam flipped the lights on, cutting off his sentence to Andy.

"What the hell?" His eyes widened as he turned to look at all of the people in his house. It seemed like the entire station was there. The rookies, Best, Noelle, even Boyd was there. Some were wearing party hats, some were holding kazoos and noise makers. All were grinning and waiting for his reaction.

"Happy Birthday!" Jerry shouted before blowing into a horn.

He smiled, shocked, and turned back to Andy. She forced a smile for the party guests. "I guess you can add this to your friggin' list," she said through gritted teeth as she pushed past him and made her way into the house.

Sam closed the door behind her and Oliver came up and wrapped an arm around his shoulder, leading him into the living room. "Now," he said, "We all know how much you hate parties, but we couldn't let your fortieth birthday go by without being celebrated. Or at least," he said, grinning and pointing his beer bottle towards Andy, "That's what McNally's been telling us."

Sam knew that he had screwed up, big time. He sent Andy a small smile, which she ignored before turning her back to him to talk to Traci. Oliver, missing the exchange, laughed and pulled Sam along, saying, "Let me get you a drink buddy."

It wasn't too long before Sam noticed that Andy had gone missing. He tried to subtly look for her in the living room and kitchen, laughing and mingling with the different groups that had gathered, before heading towards his room. He found her there, sitting on the edge of his bed, staring straight ahead at the picture above his dresser.

Her eyes flicked over to meet his when he walked into the room but she remained silent, her mouth drawn in a tight line.

"Are you hiding out from your own party?" Sam asked with a small, guilty smile.

"It's not my party, it's your party," she said quietly, her hands fidgeting in her lap. "And I'm not hiding out, I'm just taking a second so I can go back out there and be nice to people."

Sam leaned against his dresser and folded his arms across his chest. He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry."

Andy looked down at her hands. "I just wanted to do something nice for you."

"I know," Sam said, gently. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied, still not looking at him.

He held out his hand to her. "Will you come back out there with me, please?"

She looked up at him intently for a moment and then shook her head. "I just hate that you listed that stuff off so easily. It's so… embarrassing." She lowered her head again, ignoring his outstretched hand.

"Andy," Sam said, grabbing her elbow and tugging her up to him. She put her hands out against his chest to stop him from pulling her too close. "I'm sure you could rattle off a list of embarrassing, asshole things I've done if you wanted."

Andy thought for a moment before agreeing, "Probably. Including tonight." She paused. "But that doesn't mean I would."

Sam winced. "I know."

"Is that really what you think about me?" Andy asked, dropping her hand into her hands. "All the times I've screwed things up and…"

"Andy, no," Sam said, interrupting her and pulling her hands away from her face. "No, that's not what I think of you, you know that. I was just talking, I'm sorry."

Andy didn't reply, just reached up to adjust his tie.

Sam sighed. "I have another list, you wanna hear it?"

"I don't know," Andy said. "Is it going to piss me off?"

Sam grinned and shook his head "No, I don't think so."

Andy bit her lower lip and then agreed, "Fine."

"Okay," Sam said, circling his arms around her waist. "There was the time that you tackled me…"

"Sam…" Andy groaned, shaking her head and trying to push away from him.

"No, just listen," he said, holding against him. "The time that you tackled me, and then when you came to find me in the locker room. When you showed up at Anton Hill's restaurant with Emily's USB drive. When you trusted your gut about the little girl in the ice cream truck. When you turned Detective Bibby in. When you interviewed Rebecca Lee's mom. When you volunteered to be go with me in the Landry thing and then later, when you pretty much saved my life. When you got shot, when you went into that burned down building after the guy's wife and then sat in there with her and his corpse…"

"Sam," Andy said, interrupting him. "What is all this?"

Sam put his hand under her chin and tilted it up so she would look at him. "All the times when you have been brave," he told her, "And when I've been proud to be your partner."

"Oh," she said quietly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"There's more, you want to hear?" He asked, continuing before she had a chance to answer, "There's the storage locker, the equine training…"

"Equine training?" Andy asked.

"I hate horses," Sam confessed, making Andy laugh. "Why anyone would want to get up and ride one of them is beyond me."

They were quiet for a moment, just looking at one another. Andy finally relented and gave him a small smile. "That was a much better list."

"I thought so," Sam said, hugging her too him. "Forgive me?"

Andy exhaled heavily. "I guess so," she agreed, smiling as she pressed her lips against his in a soft, gentle kiss. "So do you have any other lists?"

Sam grinned. "Less like lists," he admitted. "More like… images."

"Images?" Andy asked, raising an eyebrow.

Sam nodded and bent his head to whisper in her ear. "Like the image of you sticking your hand down my pants the other night?" Andy blushed furiously but Sam just chuckled and pulled her against him. "That one will probably be with me for a while."

"Yeah?" Andy asked with a wide smile. "What else?"

"Hmm, let's see," Sam said, pretending to think. "There's that outfit you wore for Boyd's thing."

"Oh," Andy purred, trailing her finger down the line of buttons on his shirt. "You liked that did you?"

"Oh," Sam nodded, "I did. And your Edie get-up? I liked that one…" He paused and pushed a strand of hair from her face, "Very much."

"So tight and low cut," Andy asked, slipping her hands around to his back, "That does it for you, huh?"

"Not just that," Sam said, pressing his lips to her neck, "I'm pretty partial to those pajama pants you always wear."

Andy laughed, "I thought you said flannel wasn't sexy."

"Well, I was lying," Sam told her, peppering her face with kisses. "Because they definitely, definitely do it for me."

Andy smiled and stood to her tiptoes, wrapping her hand around to the back of his head. She kissed him, pulling back before he could deepen it. "We have to get back out there," she said, "People are going to be wondering where we are."

"Nope," Sam said, shaking his head. "Oliver is telling stories, no one will even notice we're gone. Let's stay in here," he said, easily picking her up and dropping her on the bed before crawling on top of her. He grinned down at her and waggled his eyebrows. "We'll have our own party."

Andy laughed as he dipped his head and began attacking her neck with his lips. "Sam!" she exclaimed, trying to push him off of her. "Sam! You're gonna wrinkle my dress!"

"You can just take it off," Sam suggested, nibbling across the exposed flesh on her shoulder. "That would solve the problem."

"Maybe I'll let you take it off me," Andy said. When his eyes flew to meet hers she winked at him and added, "Later." Sam groaned and Andy used his distraction to her advantage, wrapping a leg around him and easily flipping them over so she was on top, straddling his waist.

She wiggled against him playfully until his hands came up to grasp her hips, forcing her to stop. "McNally…" he warned.

Andy smiled and then leaned down, placing one hand on either side of his head. Her eyes were gleaming mischievously. "You want another one of those images, birthday boy?"

Sam grinned up at her and then bent his elbows, clasping his hands behind his head. "Always."

She dipped her head down and traced the shell of his ear with her tongue, making him shudder, before whispering huskily, "Black lace."

Sam swallowed hard and his eyes widened, but he recovered quickly. "See, that's not so much of an image as it is a fantasy," he explained, slipping his hands under the hem of her dress and running them up her silky-smooth thighs. "I'm going to need something more tangible." He traced his thumb along her inner thigh, watching with satisfaction as she trembled and bit her lower lip to suppress a moan.

Andy felt his eyes on her and, not wanting to let him get the upper hand, she grinned wickedly down at him. "Sam?"

His hands stilled and he looked up at her. "Yes?"

She cocked an eyebrow and asked, "Who says I'm wearing panties?"

Sam groaned and Andy pushed herself off of him, laughing. "Come on," she said, holding her hand out to him. "We really have to get back out to the party."

Sam looked at her in disbelief. "You expect me to go back out there after that?"

"Yes," Andy insisted, "I worked hard and you are going to enjoy this party whether you like it or not."

"Fine," Sam grumbled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and taking her hand. She started to walk towards the door but he tugged her back to him, circling his arms around her waist. "Birthday boy, huh?"

"Well," Andy smiled, running her hands up his chest, "Like I told you, birthdays should be special."

Sam grinned and then bent his head down to kiss her. "I think I could actually get used to that idea."

When they walked back out they found Oliver holding court in the living room, just beginning another story. "Let me tell you about our first undercover gig," Oliver said. He noticed them walking in and waved Sam over, "Sammy, come here. I was just getting ready to tell everyone about Mizz Diamond Ruff."

"Oh god," Sam groaned, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Not this one."

Oliver just nodded, "Oh yes, my friend. Who wants to hear it?" He asked, holding up his drink. He was met with applause and cat-calls, and a whistle from Andy, so he grinned and continued his story. "We were probably out of the academy, what…" he looked at Sam, "Maybe three, four months?"

Sam held up his hands and shook his head, "Something like that."

"Anyway, we were supposed to be buying drugs. Now Sammy over there," he gestured towards his friend, "Found a lady named Mizz Diamond Ruff who sold him some coke. When Sam busted her and was patting her down, he yelled out that she had a weapon."

"Oh god," Sam repeated, rubbing his forehead. Andy just grinned at him and rubbed his shoulder sympathetically.

"So Sammy, of course, reached for the weapon and pulled really hard on it," Oliver said, starting to laugh, "And Mizz Diamond Ruff let out a scream like I have never heard before. And that was when Sam found out that Mizz Ruff was actually a pre-op transsexual and that he was most definitely not pulling on a weapon."

By the time Oliver finished his story Sam was beat red and everyone was roaring with laughter. "It's my birthday," Sam called out, "I thought you were supposed to say nice things about me!"

"You know I love you buddy," Oliver replied, winking at his friend. "But now," he said, pointing everyone's attention towards Traci, who was carrying in a large sheet cake full of candles, "I think it's time for cake."

Sam took Andy's hand and leaned down to whisper in her ear, "You got me a cake?"

"Well you can't have a birthday without cake," she replied, grinning back at him.

Chris and Dov led everyone in singing "Happy Birthday" to Sam, and insisted that he blow out the candles. Sam squeezed Andy's hand and winked at her before taking a huge breath and blowing, extinguishing all but a couple of the candles. He quickly took another breath and blew those out as well.

Everyone enjoyed the cake and the party but eventually, one by one, they all started to leave. Sam stood out on the front porch, making sure people were able to get cabs and waving goodbye.

Oliver was the last to leave. "Happy Birthday, man," he said, stepping out onto the porch and slapping Sam's shoulder.

Sam smirked and opened his arms, enveloping his friend in a hug. "Thanks for everything, brother," he said.

"You're welcome," Oliver replied, patting him on the back. He stepped away from Sam and added as he walked down the steps, "Now go back in there to your lady."

Sam just chuckled as he walked back into the house, making his way to the kitchen. Soft music floated towards him and he recognized it as some female singer Andy liked to listen to. He turned the corner into the kitchen and the scene he was met with caused his breath to catch in his throat. Andy didn't hear him return so he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway, content to just watch her.

She stood at the sink with her back towards him, washing dishes as she hummed along with the music, occasionally singing a line or two. At some point she must have slipped off the strappy heels she had worn and let her hair down. Sam watched as she lifted one leg, using her toe to scratch the back of her calf before delicately setting her foot back on the floor. Her dark hair fell in curls down her back, accenting the low cut of her navy dress. Her olive skin looked warm and smooth and Sam ached to reach out and touch it.

When he could take it no more, he coughed to clear his throat. "McNally," he called, his voice low and ragged.

Andy slowly turned to look at him, a lazy grin spreading across her face.


	11. Chapter 11

Author's Note: Sorry this one is a little late! I went out of town for Labor Day and have been away from the computer. I hope it's worth the wait! Just to avoid any possible confusion... this is NOT the last chapter. Thank you to everyone who has given feedback. I love hearing from you all!

Oh! In case you're wondering, in my head Andy is listening to Adele. When they dance (later in the chapter) the song is "Make You Feel My Love."

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue or Adele.

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><p>Andy slowly turned to look at him, a lazy grin spreading across her face.<p>

She placed the cup she had been drying on the counter but stayed where she was. "Did you at least kind of not hate it?" She asked, wringing the towel between her hands.

Sam's mouth curved into a smile. "I didn't hate it," he told her, pocketing his hands in the dress pants he still wore. His suit jacket and tie had long ago been discarded.

"Would you go so far as to say you had fun?" She asked hopefully.

"I would." Sam agreed, nodding.

Andy breathed out a heavy sigh. "Good," she replied, smiling. "I'm glad."

Sam chuckled at her obvious relief. "Were you worried?" he asked.

"A little," Andy admitted, shrugging her shoulders. "I know you usually hate this kind of thing. And you did tell me no parties."

"You're right," Sam said, nodding. "I did say that." Andy's smile fell so he added quickly, "But I think we both know I say stupid things sometimes."

"Yes," Andy said, the smile returning to her face, "You do."

They stood staring at one another, smiling widely. Sam was on one side of the kitchen propped against the doorway and Andy on the other side, leaning on the counter.

All of a sudden the tension in the kitchen ratcheted up and the air between them crackled with expectation. Their eyes met and with a shared look they confirmed what the other was thinking; they both knew where the evening was headed but there was little rush to get there. The slowly building burn of anticipation was exciting and they were going to enjoy it.

The song switched over to something slow and pretty. Sam tilted his head to listen to it and then pushed himself upright, taking a couple of steps towards Andy. She looked at him and he could read the question in her eyes.

Sam stopped just in front of Andy took the towel from her hands, tossing it onto the counter. He held out his hand. "Would you like to dance with me, Andy?" He asked, his voice deep and rough.

Shivers of excitement ran up her spine and Andy grinned at him. "You dance?" She asked, surprised. She took his extended hand and placed her other over his shoulder, splaying it across the muscle there, rubbing it gently.

His fingers skimmed over the warm, bare skin of her back before he settled his hand securely around her waist, pulling her firmly against him. "Only on special occasions," he told her, slowly beginning to move them back and forth.

"Oh, and this is a special occasion?" Andy asked, lifting her head to meet his dark brown eyes with her own.

"Well," he reminded her gently, winking, "It is my birthday."

"It is," she agreed, resting her head against his solid chest. They swayed together, moving slowly to the music, holding one another.

"So how did you pull it off?" Sam asked. "The party, I mean?"

"Forget it," she replied easily. "I'm not giving away my secrets. Or my accomplices."

Sam just laughed. "Okay," he agreed without argument, his eyes twinkling as he smiled down at her. "You ready?"

She swallowed hard. "For what?"

"For this," Sam answered as he wrapped his arm around her back and grabbed her hand. He twirled her away from his body and she laughed as she swept her arm out to finish the move before curling back into him.

"That was very smooth, Officer Swarek," Andy gently teased him, bringing both of her arms around his neck. She played with the short hairs at his nape, gazing up at him.

"I've got skills, McNally," he informed her, dipping her dramatically and kissing her as she was arched in his arms.

She laughed happily as he pulled her back into his arms. Light-headed, she steadied herself before grinning up at him. "Very impressive."

"Thank you," he said, spreading his fingers over her back as she curled her hand behind his neck again.

They danced together slowly until Andy stopped abruptly, her eyes wide. "Oh my gosh."

"What's wrong?" Sam asked, taking in her expression as he searched her face for an answer.

"I forgot to get you a present," she told him, shaking her head in disappointment. "I completely forgot. I can't believe it, it's like the most basic…" Sam bent his head and captured her lips with his own, effectively silencing her ramblings. He pulled back and she looked up at him, slightly dazed. "I'm so sorry," she whispered.

He just laughed mildly and tightened his hold on her. "It's okay."

"I was so worried about meeting Sarah and then the party that I just didn't even think about it," she said, irritated with herself.

"Andy," Sam interrupted again. "It's fine. I wasn't expecting…" he shook his head, surprised by the unexpected emotion that he felt, and then cleared his throat. "I wasn't expecting any of this," he told her honestly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied softly, touched by the sincerity in his voice.

"You know," he continued, holding her hand in his against his chest, "That I'm not expecting anything, right?" He narrowed his eyes, hoping she understood what he was trying to say.

"I know," she responded quietly. She peered up at him, studying him intently, before her eyes dropped to the hand he held against him. Releasing his hand, she trailed her fingers over to the buttons of his shirt, slowly working the top one through its hole. She moved down to the second one and undid it as well before looking back up at him.

Sam gazed down at her, smiling softly as he pushed a strand of hair from her face. He wrapped his hand around into her hair and pulled back gently, angling her face up to his as he leaned down to kiss her.

The mood in the room quickly changed as his lips brushed against hers, slow but needy, growing in urgency as she responded readily to him. Moaning softly, she tilted her head and parted her lips, inviting, urging, him to deepen the kiss. He pulled her against him, reveling in the feeling of her soft curves pressed against his body.

She skimmed her hands down to his waist to untuck his shirt before moving them back up to work on the buttons again. When she had undone all of them she ran her hands across his chest and over his shoulders, sliding the shirt off of him. She bunched the fabric of his undershirt in her hands and then tore her lips away from his for the briefest of moments to pull it over his head, letting it drop to the floor. Her hands eagerly explored the bare skin revealed to her, gliding her short nails down the muscles of his torso before sliding around to his back.

His lips were back on hers again within seconds, groaning into the kiss. Her fingers were warm against his skin and her touch ignited the nerve endings beneath. His hand skimmed up her back, finding the zipper to her dress. He lifted his head, breaking the kiss, and looked down at her, searching her eyes.

"I seem to remember something about black lace," he whispered, his voice ragged.

She panted slightly and nodded, unable to form the words but wanting to encourage him to keep going. She leaned forward in his arms, pressing a kiss against the corded muscle above his collarbone and another one where his shoulder met his neck.

When she realized his hands remained still on her back, she looked up at him, dark brown eyes meeting one another. The permission he found in her eyes was all he needed as he lowered the zipper, slowly. When he reached her bottom his skimmed his fingers back up her arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

He rested his hands on her shoulders, his fingers slipping beneath the thin straps of her dress, and he bent his head down to kiss her again, softly brushing his lips against her own. Andy allowed herself to melt into the kiss, the intensity of the moment overwhelming.

"Your hands are shaking," she whispered, her voice trembling as her own hands dug into his back.

Sam let out a strangled chuckle, pulling back slightly and dropping his hands to her waist. "Yeah, I guess they are."

Andy looked up at him and her stare was penetrating. She was so used to him being the one in control, being the one to confidently guide them. She had watched him take down countless criminals with his ever present smirk, never shaken, never rattled.

Except when it came to her.

It was empowering, knowing the affect she had on him. Empowering and incredibly humbling.

After a moment she took a step back, out of his reach. His eyes widened with fear but she smiled reassuringly as she raised her own fingers to the straps of her dress. Slowly, she pushed the material off of her, letting it pool at her feet.

She stood before him in a black lace teddy and matching panties. She watched as his eyes slowly moved over her body, drinking her in.

Andy smiled shyly, suddenly nervous. "Does it live up to the fantasy?" She asked quietly.

Sam swallowed hard and nodded, letting out a deep breath he didn't know he was holding. "You're beautiful," he muttered, almost to himself. Reaching out for her, he stroked his hand down her hair, repeating, "So beautiful."

He pulled her back to him and kissed her, gently, almost reverently. He pressed his lips to the skin of her neck, moving slowly down one side and then across her chest, tracing the top of her lingerie with his fingers, before sweeping back up to her lips, claiming them again with hot, desperate need. She responded immediately, her hands moving up into his hair as she tugged him down to her, kissing him hungrily.

He felt her hands move to his belt, her fingers grazing his skin as she slipped it off of him.

He broke away from the kiss, his chest heaving. Andy watched, mesmerized, as he rested his hand above her breast, feeling the shallow breaths the she took and the rapid beat of her heart. Slowly, his eyes locked with hers, he moved his hand down and cupped her over the lacy fabric, testing the weight of her breast in his palm.

She whimpered as he tightened his hand, squeezing her tenderly. She could hear blood pounding in her ears and heat pooled in her stomach as he moved his hands over her, exploring, gaining in confidence as her body responded to his ministrations.

Finally, overcome with his need for her, he pulled her firmly against him, lifting her off the ground. She wrapped one leg around his waist and his hands went to her rear, guiding her other leg around him as well. Sam kissed her feverishly, walking her back towards his bedroom.

He laid her on the bed and climbed on top of her, covering her body with his own. She moaned as he pressed her against the mattress with a searing kiss. Blindly, she worked the zipper of his pants, swallowing his groan with a kiss, and helped him push his pants down. He sat up to pull them off, taking a moment to look at her, stretched languidly across his bed.

His gaze landed back on hers and she shuddered, waiting expectantly for him to join her again. She reached her hand out to him, beckoning him. He moved back up her body and hovered above her, bracing himself on one elbow as his other hand skimmed down her side, coming to rest on her waist.

With soft touches and gentle caresses, they removed the rest of their clothing and came together. He moved above her, whispering into her ear, telling her how beautiful she was and how good she felt, as she raked her nails down his back and clung to him, squeezing her eyes shut and crying out in pleasure.

Afterwards they lay tangled together on their sides, smiling softly at one another, satisfied and satiated.

"I think I like this tradition better than birthday pancakes," Sam mused, rubbing small circles on her back.

Andy raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam said, nodding. "Of course," he grinned, "We could combine the two and I could cover you in whipped cream and sprinkles,"

Andy giggled and rolled on top of him. "Wouldn't that get sticky?" She intertwined their fingers and held his hands by his head, leaning down to brush her lips against his.

Sam shook his head and then nipped at the sensitive skin that covered her collarbone. "I would personally make sure it was all cleaned off of you."

"Well in that case," she agreed, sitting up fully to straddle his waist. Rolling her hips, she smiled down at him, "There's always next year."

The bright morning sun filtered in through the windows, waking Sam up. He fought it, hoping for a few more moments of sleep, but eventually he opened his eyes. Andy was still tucked against his body, his arm resting possessively over her waist, snoring softly in her sleep. He traced his fingers over the curve of her cheek, pushing away an errant strand of hair, before pressing a light kiss to her forehead. Careful not to wake her up, he pushed himself out of the bed and headed towards the bathroom.

He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and, with a smug smile, noted the scratch marks across his lower back. He was certain that if he examined her body, which he had every intention of doing, he would find evidence of the previous night's activity as well.

When he returned she was still sleeping, her chest rising and falling with every breath she took. She looked peaceful and content, so he fought the urge to wake her and instead pulled on a pair of boxers and made his way to the kitchen.

He walked back into his bedroom with two mugs of fresh coffee. He had quickly decided to forgo his former plan of letting her sleep, figuring she wouldn't mind if he woke her up. He waved the coffee under her nose, hoping the smell alone would wake up her. She stirred slightly, but didn't wake, so he set the coffee down and sat beside her, the bed sagging with his weight.

"Andy," he whispered, running his hand up her shoulder. She moaned softly and he did it again, gently rousing her. "Andy, wake up."

Her eyes flicked open and she blinked to focus them, taking in his presence beside her. She stretched out like a cat, waking her muscles, before snuggling into her pillow. She yawned and then smiled sleepily at him. "Good morning."

"Good morning to you," Sam said quietly, watching her. He picked up the coffee mug from the nightstand and held it out to her enticingly. "I brought you some coffee."

"Mmmm," Andy sighed happily, sitting up and reaching for the cup. She let the sheet fall to her waist, allowing Sam to take in a very appreciated eyeful, before quickly pulling it up over her naked chest.

She took a sip and then cut her eyes over to him, her lips tugging into a sly smile. "So did you, uh… sleep well last night?" She asked innocently.

Sam looked over at her, smirking. "Oh yeah," he agreed, nodding, "Best night of sleep I've had in a while."

Andy smiled widely, pleased. "Good," she said.

"And you?"

"Eh." Her brow furrowed and she shrugged.

His smirk fell and he narrowed his eyes. "Eh?" he repeated incredulously.

She nodded and then grinned. "I think I'm probably going to have to get a lot more sleep before I can make my final decision. You know, just to give an accurate…" she was cut off by her own burst laughter, giggling he swiftly took her coffee from her and set it aside. Grabbing her waist, he pulled her back down on to the bed, her head landing on the pillow as he climbed over her, tickling her ribcage and grazing his fingers over the sides of her breasts.

"Sam!" She cried out, laughing and out of breath, pushing his hands away from her. He relented his assault and settled himself above her, kissing her fully on the mouth. She cupped her hands around his face, brushing her thumb over his jawline, and grinned happily into his kisses.

He broke away from her and trailed his lips over her face, suckling the lobe of her ear into his mouth, eliciting a soft moan.

"I've got to say," he muttered against her skin, kissing his way down her breastbone and swirling his tongue around her belly button. "This was excellent planning McNally."

"What do you mean?" she asked distractedly as she hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxers, pushing them as far down as she could before using her toes to pull them the rest of the way off.

"Seducing me on my birthday," Sam accused, running his hand down to her thigh, feeling the muscle quiver beneath his fingers. "Scheduling us to have today off of work."

She scoffed, acting offended at the insinuation. "I didn't plan anything," she tried to tell him, giggling as his stubbly cheek tickled her stomach.

"So you always wear lingerie like that under your clothes?" he asked, looking up at her and raising a dubious eyebrow. "Damn, now that I know what's hiding beneath your uniform..."

"Okay, okay," Andy interrupted as she grinned and thread her fingers through his hair, tugging gently to pull him back up to her. She kissed him and then smiled sheepishly "I may have planned it a little bit."

Sam grinned down at her. "I never would have guessed," he teased kindly.

"I didn't hear you complaining," Andy grumbled good-naturedly, circling his nipple with her finger before flicking her nail over it, watching as it hardened beneath her touch.

"You'll never hear me complain about anything that involves you getting naked," he said gruffly, rubbing his thumb over her hipbone before squeezing her flesh and causing her to arch against him. "Did you have any plans in mind for today?"

Andy bit her lower lip and nodded. "I was thinking," she said, trailing her fingers down his chest, stopping when she saw his eyes darken with desire, "That I need to do laundry and clean up from the party and at some point we really need to go to the grocery store..." she started to untangle herself from him, pretending she was going to get up from the bed.

He caught her by her waist and hauled her back down, pinning her to the mattress with her arms clasped in one of his hands above her head. She laughed as he kissed his way down the column of her neck. "I don't think so," he told her. His free hand trailed down to her thigh and he pulled it up, encouraging her to wrap it around his waist. She did, breathing a sharp intake of air as his hips nestled between her legs.

"You have other plans?" Andy asked naively, breathing hard as she scraped her nails between his shoulder blades.

"Oh, I have many, many plans," he assured her, grinning wickedly before disappearing under the covers.


	12. Chapter 12

Author's Note: As always, thank you for the kind and encouraging feedback. It really does mean so much to a writer (and I use that term loosely in reference to myself) when you take the time to let us know what you think! I'm glad you guys are sticking with this story, even though circumstances on the show have changed. Speaking of... the finale last night. Some seriously cute moments but I swear, would it kill the writers to give us a McSwarek hug? The man you've been sleeping with, the man you probably love, is walking out of a house after being tortured by a psychopath and we get blank stares? Ugh. Other than that though, fantastic episode. I can't wait for ABC to load the commentary (it's supposed to be Missy, Ben and David Wellington so it should be good!). Maybe it will provide insight into what Andy and Sam were thinking during his "rescue".

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue. If I did there would be some freaking HUGS! God.

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><p>The next day, Andy smiled softly to herself as she stood in front of her locker, buttoning her uniform shirt.<p>

"Someone looks happy," Traci noted, coming up beside Andy and opening her own locker. She grinned knowingly. "I take it Sam wasn't too upset about the party?"

Andy's cheeks tinted with a blush. "No, he didn't seem too upset at all," she said, suddenly needing to search through her locker, anything to get away from Traci's prying eyes.

Pulling her shirt over her head, Traci persisted. "And I'm sure he wasn't at all distracted by… other things?"

Andy grinned and looked over at her friend. "He may have been a little distracted." When Traci raised an eyebrow Andy laughed and admitted, "Okay, maybe he was a lot distracted."

Traci's face lit up with a big smile. "Really?"

Andy just bit her lip and nodded, unable to keep the grin off of her face and not really wanting to deny it.

"Andy McNally," Traci exclaimed, hitting Andy lightly on the arm with her shirt. "I'm happy for you. So are you guys together now or what?"

"Yeah, I think so. I mean, we haven't really talked about it or made it official or anything but," Andy shrugged and then nodded, "I think so."

"I'm sure you didn't get much talking in," Traci teased, sitting down on the bench to pull her boots on. "So are you still going to move into your apartment?"

"Yeah," Andy answered, her forehead wrinkling. "Why wouldn't I?"

Traci just shrugged. "Seems like you guys have gotten settled into a pretty good routine, that's all. Does Sam know you're still planning on moving out?"

"I never really moved in," Andy insisted, "He knows it was only temporary, just until my apartment was ready."

"Yeah," Traci acknowledged carefully, "But that was before."

Andy was about to respond when Gail poked her head around the lockers. "You guys better hurry. You're going to be late for parade."

"We're coming," Traci said, finishing up the knot in her shoelaces. "Just talk to him," she told Andy, standing up and walking towards the door. "Make sure you're on the same page, that's all I'm saying."

Andy followed her friend to parade, deep in thought. She and Sam hadn't discussed whether or not she was still going to move into her apartment, she had just assumed she still was. It was way too early in the relationship to even consider moving in together.

Of course they had pretty much been living together for the last three weeks and things were going well.

As Andy entered the parade room she shook her head, clearing her mind. There was plenty of time to think about living arrangements later. She and Traci slid into the only two empty seats left in the room just as Best was beginning his daily report.

Andy tried to focus on what he was saying, but she could feel Sam's eyes on the back of her neck. She tried to nonchalantly look back to where she knew he was seated. She found him, right where she knew he would be next to Oliver, and smiled at him.

His eyes locked with hers, he ran his tongue over his top teeth suggestively and then winked at her. Shivers ran up her spine and she felt her face flush with heat, much to his delight. He grinned at her before discreetly tipping his head forward, directing her attention back to Best.

Best turned parade over to Jerry, who detailed the case he had been working on to the officers. There had been a string of home invasions in the downtown lake area and it looked like the work of a highly organized group of burglars. Andy did her best to concentrate but when Best dismissed them she realized she hadn't heard a thing Jerry had said.

Sam left the room before her, talking something over with Oliver, and Andy had gotten caught in a discussion with Chris and Dov about the best way to cook an omelet.

"You have to add the cheese after the egg is already cooking," Chris said.

"No way," Dov argued passionately as they walked out of the room. "You have to stir in the cheese first, that way it melts throughout the whole thing. Andy?"

Andy pursed her lips, considering the question. "Cheese first," she said after a moment, agreeing with Dov. "Other ingredients later."

"Hah!" Dov declared triumphantly as he and Chris turned away from Andy to go to their squad car. "I told you."

Andy shook her head and laughed quietly, watching them walk down the hallway. She glanced into the squad room, looking for Sam. Unsurprisingly, she found him standing in front of the coffee station. He appeared to be stirring creamer into a cup of coffee but his eyes were glazed over and she could tell his attention was elsewhere. There was a small smirk playing on his lips and she had a pretty good idea what he was thinking about.

"I think that coffee is as stirred as it's gonna get," Andy said, sidling up next to him with a grin on her face.

Sam blinked over at her, pulled out of his thoughts. "Hmm? Oh," he quickly threw the stirrer away and then handed her the coffee, "Here you go."

"Thank you," she said, accepting the coffee gratefully and wrapping both hands around the warm cup. She took a sip and then raised an eyebrow. "You seem a little distracted."

Sam's eyes twinkled as he looked at her. He opened his mouth to say something, probably inappropriate, but thought better of it. Instead, his lips twitching with a smirk, he replied, "I was just thinking."

"About Jerry's case?" She asked innocently, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"Oh yeah," Sam nodding, knowing full well she knew he wasn't really thinking about the case. "It's, uh, been on my mind all morning." He looked at her pointedly. "I really haven't been able to think about anything else."

"Me either," Andy told him, taking a step closer to him. "Except," she said, lowering her voice so only he could hear her. "I'm a little fuzzy about some of the details."

Sam grinned at her and then glanced around, making sure no one was paying attention to them, before putting a hand on the small of her back. "We can't have that."

Andy dragged her bottom lip through her teeth. "Do you think you have time to go over them with me? The details, I mean?"

A dark, smoldering gaze replaced the warm, loving eyes that usually looked down at her. He swallowed hard. "I'm sure we could probably find somewhere to discuss them," Sam said, pulling her body a fraction of an inch closer to his, just enough to brush against her.

"Good," Andy murmured, holding her coffee in one hand and resting the other on his chest, flicking her finger over his name badge. "Because I want to be very, very clear about the details."

Sam suppressed a groan and, using the hand that rested on her back to guide her, led her swiftly out of the squad room and down the hallway. Her coffee was abandoned on someone's desk and she kept a straight face when they passed a group of officers but then giggled delightedly as he checked interview one. Finding the viewing room empty, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her inside, locking the door behind them.

In no time at all he had pushed her back against the wall, kissing her long and hard. His fingers made quick work of the buttons down the front of her shirt and he hastily pushed it aside before slipping his hand in and squeezing her roughly.

Blood pulsated through her ears as she moaned and yielded willingly to him, thoroughly embracing and enjoying the more aggressive side of Sam. "So you've been thinking, huh?" She asked huskily when he tore his lips away from hers, kissing down her neck.

"Mmmhmm," was his only reply as he scraped his teeth across her collarbone before latching on to the sensitive skin at the base of her neck and biting down gently, a stark contrast to the hold he currently had on her breast.

She closed her eyes and allowed her head to roll back against the wall. Her hands went to his belt, quickly undoing it but not bothering to pull it off, and she fisted the material of his shirt, pulling him towards her. "About what?"

"You," he told her, lifting her by the waist and leaving her no choice but to wrap her legs around him. He turned them around and settled her on the table in the middle of the room, his hands running up her thighs as he kissed her again.

"Me?" She asked, tugging his shirt loose from his pants. She smiled wickedly at him. "What about me?"

"Andy?" He said distractedly, preoccupied with slipping his hand through the folds of her shirt and reaching around her body to flick the clasp of her bra open.

She slid her hands up under his shirt, tweaking his nipples. "Yes?"

"Stop talking," he directed, running his hands beneath the material of her bra.

"Okay," she agreed breathlessly as she wrapped her arms around his neck and tightened her legs, pulling her body flush against his. She held his face in her hands and brought her lips to his again, slowing the frenzied pace that he had set but doing nothing to calm the intensity.

He kissed her deeply, his arms encircling her body and drawing her impossibly closer. He wedged a hand between them and sought out her belt, unbuckling it before moving his fingers to the button of her pants. He groaned with frustration when he couldn't get it undone, and Andy quickly nudged his hands away to help, afraid he might actually rip something.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Andy shoved him off of her, cursing under her breath.

"Ignore it," Sam said gruffly, grasping her hips again. "They'll go away."

"We can't ignore it," Andy hissed, pushing him away and scrambling off the table while frantically trying to refasten her bra.

Sam took a deep breath and then calmly tucked his shirt in and buckled his belt.

"Sam!" Andy exclaimed, annoyed, her shirt still open as she tried to reach around to her back, "Help me!"

There was another knock on the door. More like pounding this time. "Sam, I saw you go in there, open the door," Jerry's familiar voice called out from the other side of the door.

Sam reached over to fasten Andy's bra and then moved her to the wall beside the door.

He unlocked the door and opened it, making sure Andy was hidden behind it as she furiously tried to straighten her disheveled clothing. "Jerry," he greeted smoothly, finding the detective standing in front of him, looking irritated but also slightly amused.

"Sam," Jerry replied mildly. "Is McNally in there with you?"

Sam nodded sharply. "We were just going over the details of your case," he said, unable to keep his lips from twitching with a telling and unapologetic grin.

"Sure you were," Jerry agreed sarcastically, rolling his eyes. "When McNally gets her clothes back on I need you two to come to the D's office and help me with something."

Andy came out from behind the door and moved to stand next to Sam, smiling sheepishly. "I'm right here. Clothed and everything. "

Jerry gave her a once over and then smirked. "Your buttons are messed up," he said, pointing at her shirt. He looked between the two of them and instructed before leaving, "My office. Hurry."

Sam let the door to the interview room close and then turned to Andy, grinning widely. Her face was flaming red with embarrassment and she dropped her head into her hands, groaning. "Oh my god, I can't believe that just happened."

Sam just chuckled and reached for her shirt, his nimble fingers undoing the buttons and then redoing them in the correct order. "It's just Jerry," Sam told her, pulling her hands away from her face and circling them around his waist. "He doesn't care."

"It's not Jerry," she protested, her eyes wide. "We got carried away. I can't believe we almost had sex, here," she gestured around the room, "At work."

Sam grinned wolfishly down at her, his dimples fully on display.

"What?" She asked, looking at him suspiciously.

Sam widened his stance, pulling her closer to him. "Nothing," he said, clearly pleased with something.

She narrowed her eyes. "No, okay. No," she admitted, knowing was he was getting at. "I never had sex with Luke at work."

Sam shrugged, "I wasn't gonna ask." He bent his head down to whisper in her ear, "But that is good to know."

She sighed but leaned into him. "This cannot happen again," she asserted, directed more towards herself than him.

"Fine," he replied easily. He paused for half a beat and then continued, "There's always the locker room, and the squad car and we could probably get a holding cell to ourselves but you'd probably have to let me cuff you…"

She slapped his chest lightly, laughing. "No, I'm being serious Sam."

"So am I. You've cuffed me, it's only fair. I'll be gentle," Sam said, grinning down at her. "Maybe."

Andy rolled her eyes, "Keep dreaming."

"Oh I will," he promised, smiling. "Seriously though," he said, tugging on her ponytail, "You okay?"

"A little rattled," she admitted, "A little embarrassed. But I'm good."

He kissed her forehead. "You ready to go?"

She nodded and stepped away from him, running her hands over her clothes. "Do I look okay?"

"You look great," he assured her, opening the door.

Later that night, after Sam had shown her exactly what he had been thinking about earlier that day, he laid on top of her, breathing heavily.

"Wow," Andy sighed, lazily running her fingers across his still heaving back. He made a move to get up but she clamped her legs around him, holding him to her. "No, just stay here for a minute."

"Okay," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss against a mark on her shoulder.

They stayed like that, kissing each other tenderly and whispering in hushed tones, until finally Andy pushed against Sam. "You're getting heavy."

Sam chuckled and rolled to his side, pulling her along with him.

"So I talked to Traci today," Andy told him, running her fingers through the hair the covered his chest.

He pushed her bangs out of her eyes before replying, "Oh, yeah?"

She nodded. "I told her about us."

"Okay," Sam said, curling his hand around her waist. "And?"

"She was happy for us," Andy said. "I think she's been rooting for us for a while."

"Rooting for us?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

Andy nodded, tracing his tattoo with feather-light strokes. "She knows about what happened the night of the blackout."

"Oh," Sam said simply, not really knowing where Andy was going.

"Did you ever tell anyone?" She asked quietly, looking up at him from beneath her long eyelashes.

Sam shook his head. "No," he replied hoarsely. "No one."

Andy smiled softly, not surprised that he had kept it to himself. She framed his face with her hands and leaned in to brush a gentle kiss against his lips.

"Traci was never really supportive of Luke," Andy told him. "She tried to be, but I could tell she was forcing it."

"I knew I liked her," Sam joked, kissing her again. He smiled as he pulled back, but something in her dark eyes made him stop. She looked… fearful, almost. Like she wanted to say something but didn't know how. "What's wrong?"

Andy took a deep breath. "There's something I need to talk to you about," she said, folding one arm beneath her head and trailing the other across his shoulder.

"What is it?" Sam asked. Andy could hear the nervousness creeping into his tone.

She hesitated for a moment but then told him, "I'm supposed to move into my apartment in a couple of days."

She felt Sam immediately stiffen under her fingers, his muscles tense.

"Okay," he replied neutrally.

Andy studied him, trying to read him. "What do you think about that?"

"Is that still your plan?" Sam asked evenly, his voice carrying no emotion. Andy knew it was a sign that he was upset, that he was trying to control his reaction.

She nodded slowly.

The muscle in Sam's jaw twitched and his eyes narrowed slightly before he rolled away from her and pushed himself off of the bed, heading to the bathroom.

Andy sighed and sat up, reaching for his discarded t-shirt at the end of the bed. She could feel an argument coming on and there was no way she was going to have it in the nude.

"You knew I was only staying here temporarily," she called out to him through the partially closed door.

He didn't reply. She heard the toilet flush and the water run and then Sam appeared in the bathroom doorway again, bracing his arms on either side of the frame. The light from the bathroom was the only light on in the room, illuminating Sam from behind but casting shadows across his face. Andy couldn't make out his expression enough to read it.

She flipped the lamp next to the bed on, squinting as her eyes adjusted to the brightness. He didn't move from where he was, still braced in the doorway of the bathroom, in a pair of boxers he had obviously just pulled on. His jaw was tight and she watched him work it from side to side.

"It was only supposed to be three weeks," she reminded him quietly.

Sam ran a hand down his throat before scratching his jawline. "And you don't think anything's changed in those three weeks?"

"Of course things have changed," Andy told him with what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"So?" Sam drew the word out, shaking his head with the question.

"I can't stay here," she said. "I can't move in with you right now."

"Why not?" He challenged.

Andy rolled her eyes at how difficult he was being. "Because we've been together for what? A week? Less than that?" The thought of moving in with someone that quickly was absurd, no matter who it was. "Do you even want me to stay here?"

"Of course I do," Sam said. "I wouldn't have asked you in the first place if I didn't want you here."

"But you knew it was only for a few weeks when you asked," Andy argued. "Not permanently."

Sam shrugged, "Who cares how long it was supposed to be for?"

"You're ready to just jump into that? Living together?" She asked, her brow drawing together in disbelief. "Already?"

"It's worked out pretty well so far," Sam claimed. "I don't see why that needs to change."

Andy sighed and looked down at her hands. "Sam…"

"What Andy?" He asked sharply. "What?"

She glared at him, suddenly angry. "You were the one that said we could move at whatever pace we were both comfortable with," she said, throwing his words back at him.

Sam chewed on his bottom lip, studying her. "What are you afraid of?"

"It's a big commitment Sam," she said. "I don't think it's unreasonable for me to be a little hesitant about it."

"You're going to be here anyway," Sam rationalized. "Why bother having an apartment on the side? It's unnecessary."

"It's not unnecessary," Andy claimed. "What if something happens?"

Sam flicked off the bathroom light and then moved into the room to stand at the foot of the bed, folding his arms in front of his chest. His stare was disconcerting and she felt herself backing up until she was against the headboard. "Like what?" he asked.

Andy's eyes widened. "Sam, please," she pleaded with him.

"What do you think is going to happen, Andy?" Sam persisted, his voice rising.

"I don't know!" Andy exclaimed. "Okay, I don't know what's going to happen or what could happen I just know it's a huge commitment."

"You moved in with Callaghan," Sam said.

"After dating him for several months!" Andy retorted.

"You were going to marry him." Sam shot back. "That's a pretty big commitment."

Andy sat up to her knees, pointing at him accusingly. "You were the one that told me I was too young to get married."

Sam snorted a humorless laugh. "Of course I said that Andy!" he yelled, throwing his hands out. "I didn't want you to marry the guy!"

"So why couldn't you just have told me that?"

"Would you have listened it I had?"

"Maybe not," she admitted honestly, her voice still raised. "But you could have at least tried."

"What good would it have done?" Sam asked, accusingly. "If Callaghan hadn't cheated on you with Jo, you'd still probably be with him right now!"

The accusation hung between them like a heavy weight.

Andy felt like she had been punched in the stomach. She sat back on her heels, letting out a deep breath. "Is that what this is about?"

"Well it's true," Sam maintained callously. "Isn't it?"

"How am I supposed to know that?"

"Well you certainly weren't doing anything to change it!" Sam said. "In fact, didn't I hear that wedding planning had been sped up?"

Andy took a sharp intake of air. "Who told you that?"

"Jerry did," Sam spat out. "Luke's freaking best man. Thanks for telling me by the way, really appreciated that one."

"Oh," Andy said defensively, "Because you wanted to go to the wedding?"

"Hell no," Sam replied. "But I would have, if you'd asked."

"I didn't even ask Chris or Dov to be there!" Andy yelled back. "Or my dad! But it's not like it matters now, I'm not even with him anymore!"

"Because he cheated on you."

Andy glared at him. "That's not fair."

"Well, the truth hurts sometimes Andy," Sam said.

"God, you can be such a bastard sometimes," she said, shaking her head. "Don't put this on me! It's not like you ever gave me a reason to leave him."

Sam set his jaw. "I thought he was the one you wanted."

"I wanted you, you stubborn jackass!" Andy shrieked, "After the blackout I wanted you but you were the one that pushed me away!"

"I've been there for you this whole time Andy!"

"Yeah, as my friend," Andy said. "As my partner. I never knew it was anything more than that."

"You are lying," he replied coolly. "You knew."

"What did I know?" Andy asked, prodding him.

Sam raised an eyebrow and ground his teeth together, remaining silent.

"Yeah," Andy said, nodding sadly. "That's what I thought. You want me to live here, with you, and you still can't even tell me how you really feel, I have to watch it on a video."

They regarded each other for a moment, unspoken words and hurt and accusations hanging between them, filling the air with tension.

"I'm not Luke, Andy," Sam said quietly after a minute. "I'm not going to cheat on you."

Despite her anger, Andy replied softly. "I know that."

"Do you?" Sam asked, bending his knees so he was in her eye line.

She just nodded.

"Okay," he said, climbing onto the bed next to her, the mattress dipping under his weight. "Here's what I want. I want you to be here, with me. I want you to be here when I go to sleep and when I wake up and I'd like for you to be here all of the hours in between."

Andy looked up at him, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Sam, I just…"

He interrupted her, pressing a kiss against her forehead. "Let's just go to sleep, okay?" He suggested softly, yawning. "We can finish this in the morning."

"Do you want me to go upstairs?" She asked, watching as he slipped beneath the covers.

He shook his head. "No," he said, patting the space beside him. "Stay here. Please."

"Okay," she whispered, sliding in next to him, careful not to touch him, somehow feeling like she didn't have the right even though not twenty minutes earlier he had been touching her in the most intimate ways possible.

She turned over to her side and reached to turn the light out, bathing them in darkness.

"Andy?"

She looked over her shoulder. "Yeah?" She whispered.

She felt his strong arm circle her waist and drag her across the bed, cradling her against him.

He nuzzled his face into her hair, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Is this okay?"

She nodded. "Yeah," she whispered. Despite the harsh words exchanged between them and the anger still simmering at the surface, there was security in his arms. "Yeah, it's good."

Eventually she felt his breathing even out, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm against her back. He may have fallen asleep, but she was wide-awake, unable to turn her mind off. She kept running their argument through her head, debating with herself her reasons for not wanting to move in with him and wondering if what he said was true, if she would still be with Luke had he not cheated on her. After being with Sam, even just the few short days they had been together, she couldn't fathom why she had ever chosen Luke over him.

His cellphone rang, waking him up, but she pretended to be asleep as she heard him talk quietly into it. She assumed it was Boyd, no one else would call in the middle of the night.

She pretended to be asleep when she felt him get out of bed and heard him pull on his clothes and then she continued pretending to be asleep when she felt his warm hand on her hip and his lips pressing against her temple.

She didn't want to talk to him, not then. Not yet.

It wasn't until she heard the front door close that she flipped to her back and folded her hands over her chest, settling in for what she knew would be a long night ahead.

When her own phone went off several hours later, she wasn't initially concerned, thinking that Sam probably needed her help again. She held the phone in front of her, checking the caller ID before answering, and her pulse quickened when she saw that it was an unknown number.

"Hello?" She answered anxiously.

"McNally," the voice on the other end of the line said. "This is Donovan Boyd."

She sat straight up in bed. "Where's Sam?"

"I'm here with him at Memorial Hospital," Boyd said. "You, uh, you need to get down here."

"Is he okay?" Andy asked, throwing the covers off of her and searching the floor for clothing. He didn't reply right away so she asked again, impatiently, "Boyd! Is he okay? What happened?"

She heard him clear his throat. "He's been shot."


	13. Chapter 13

Author's Note: Thank you for the continued reviews and support! This is the last chapter but the epilogue will be up in the next few days. Hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

* * *

><p>Andy took a cab down to the hospital. She paid the driver and then sprinted inside the emergency room, quickly searching the waiting area for Boyd.<p>

She found him sitting in one of the hard plastic chairs against a wall. "Where is he?" Andy asked, running up to him.

Boyd saw her coming and stood up before she got to him, holding his hands out in caution. "Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said, slowing her down. "They took him up to surgery."

"Surgery?" She repeated, her eyebrows shooting up. "You said it wasn't serious."

"I'm not a doctor," Boyd snapped.

"Well why did he have to go to surgery?" Andy asked. "I thought he had his vest on?"

"He did," Boyd told her, "But he took one in the arm too. Apparently it hit an artery…" he trailed off, shaking his head, "I guess they're having to sew it up."

"You guess?" Andy asked, her eyes flashing with anger at his incompetence. Her voice raised, she continued, "You didn't ask?"

"No," Boyd replied defensively, matching her volume. "I thought I'd let the doctors do their job. I'm not here to hold your boyfriend's hand, McNally."

Andy narrowed her eyes at him in a withering stare. "You are absolutely useless," she said after a moment, turning sharply on her heel. She went up to the nearest person in scrubs she could find, asking, "Can you tell me anything about Sam Swarek? He was an officer brought in here about an hour ago? Gun shot wound?"

"Are you family?" The doctor asked.

"No," Andy answered honestly, "But I am his partner."

"Do you have your badge and ID?"

Andy searched frantically through the pockets of her coat, realizing with a sinking feeling that she had forgotten to grab her badge. "I don't have it on me," she admitted.

The man shook his head regretfully, walking off. "I'm sorry, we can't give out information about our patients."

Andy groaned, irritated with herself and frustrated with the lack of information. She glanced futilely around the room, trying to figure out what she should do next. Remembering what hospital she was at, she made her way to the nurse's station and asked, "Is Monica working?"

A nurse looked up from her clipboard, eyeing Andy. "Monica who?"

Andy threw up her hands, her usual politeness gone. "I don't know her last name, how many nurses do you have named Monica?"

The lady glared at her and then answered, "Monica works day shift. She won't be here for another five hours."

Andy sighed and then, belatedly remembering her manners, thanked the nurse before turning away.

"McNally!" A familiar voice called out to her. She turned to the entrance of the emergency room to see Oliver entering through the automatic sliding doors.

Andy could have cried in relief at the sight of him. "Oliver," she said, meeting him in the middle of the room. Oliver held his arms open and she fell into them, asking, "What are you doing here?"

"Frank called me," he told her. "He'll be down here as soon as he can. What's going on?"

Andy pulled back, shaking her head. "Sam's in surgery but I can't get anyone to tell me anything."

"What happened?"

Andy gestured to Boyd, who was making his way over to them. "I don't know, Boyd wouldn't tell me over the phone."

Boyd joined them and held out his hand in greeting, "Shaw." Andy fought to keep from rolling her eyes at the difference in tone he had when speaking to Oliver as opposed to her.

"Boyd," Oliver acknowledged sharply, reluctantly shaking the other man's hand. "What the hell happened?"

Boyd exhaled heavily and then, ducking his head to speak privately to them, said, "One of my guys found out about a big house party going on down on Jarvis. I wanted to send him in with backup so I called Sammy."

"Okay," Oliver said slowly, prompting Boyd to continue.

Boyd glanced around and then admitted, "I didn't know that some of Hill's guys were there. They made him as soon as he walked in the door."

Andy's eyes widened with realization and disbelief. "You sent him to a party with Anton Hill's people?"

"Would you keep your voice down?" Boyd scolded, glaring at people in the waiting room who had turned to look at them. "I didn't know they were going to be there. My info was…" he paused, choosing his words carefully. "Spotty."

"Spotty?" Andy repeated incredulously, not heeding Boyd's plea to keep her voice down or caring about the group of onlookers they had attracted. "Spotty? Why didn't you just line him up in front of a firing range, huh?" She asked furiously, shoving Boyd backwards before lunging at him. She landed a couple of decent punches before Oliver pulled her away.

"Okay, okay," Oliver said, trying to calm her down.

Andy fought against him, yelling at Boyd. "He could have been killed, you son of a bitch!"

"You better watch yourself rookie," Boyd responded angrily, pointing at her. "I'm your superior officer."

His taunting only enraged Andy more and Oliver had to physically drag her away from him, moving her across the room into a secluded corner. "I know you're mad, I am too," he told her, his voice even and calm. "But you're not helping Sam right now."

Andy took a deep breath and clenched her fists at her side. "I knew it," she seethed. "I knew he was going to get hurt working for Boyd."

"How long has he been doing this?" Oliver asked, having obviously been kept in the dark.

"A few months," Andy answered quietly, running a hand over her forehead, trying to massage away the headache that had suddenly formed. "I found out about it a couple of weeks ago, when I started staying with him."

Oliver just nodded, processing the information. "Okay, so, we know he's in surgery, right?"

"Yeah," Andy said, "Boyd said he took a couple in the vest, which thank god he had that on, and then a couple in the arm. I guess it hit an artery or something, I… I…," she stammered anxiously, "I don't know. No one will tell me anything because I'm not his family and I don't have my badge with me."

"Okay," Oliver said, taking charge and guiding her towards a bank of elevators. "Let's go up to the OR and try to find someone there that will talk to us."

"Yeah, yeah, okay." Andy agreed, relieved to have someone she trusted telling her what to do. "Good idea."

They made their way up to the operating room waiting area and Oliver told Andy to sit tight while he went to find out what was going on. He returned a few minutes later, handing her a cup of coffee. "Here you go," he said, sitting next to her.

"Thanks," she replied quietly. "What did you find out?"

"He's still in there," Oliver said, sipping on his own coffee. "Boyd was right, it's his arm. The doctor I spoke to said he had a couple of broken ribs but that a bullet hit his brachial artery, that's what he's in surgery for."

"So he's going to be okay, right? I mean, it's just his arm."

"It looks like it, but you can never be certain with these things," Oliver said, trying not to sugarcoat anything. "He lost a lot of blood Andy."

Andy nodded, worrying her bottom lip. "Someone needs to call Sarah," she said. "She's his next of kin and I doubt Boyd did."

"You want to wait until his surgery is over?" Oliver asked. "It's the middle of the night."

"No," Andy shook her head. "She'll want to know." Oliver made a move to stand up, but Andy put her hand on his knee, stopping him. "It's okay," she said, standing up. "I'll do it."

Andy quickly contacted the station to get Sarah's number from Sam's file and then made the call. Sarah was, understandably, very worried and told Andy she would be at the hospital as soon as she could.

"Andy," Sarah said before hanging up. "You'll be with him when he wakes up, right?"

Andy swallowed hard. "Yeah," she replied. "Yeah, I'm not going anywhere."

They said goodbye and hung up. When Andy got back to Oliver, Frank Best was with him, along with Boyd. She avoided Boyd's eye line and greeted her staff sergeant with a quick hug.

"McNally," he said, patting her back. "How you doing?"

Andy gave a small smile, suddenly feeling awkward. They would have told Best about their relationship eventually, but it was obvious from her state of dress and dishevelment that Andy was there not as a fellow police officer but as Sam's… girlfriend? Lover? Neither label seemed to fit.

"I'm fine," she told him, "Thanks."

He put his hand on her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "He's going to be okay."

Andy just nodded before taking her seat again next to Oliver. He slung his arm around her shoulder, settling it across the back of her seat, and she gratefully leaned against him, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose.

Time passed slowly, Andy must have checked her watch a hundred times. She couldn't help but think back to when Luke had been shot and she'd sat in the same chairs next to Sam. That experience had been horrifying but the thought of losing Sam… her pulse quickened and her breath hitched just thinking about it, so she didn't let herself go there.

Finally the surgeon came out and they all stood up to speak with him. He said that the surgery had gone well and that Sam was in recovery.

"Who is McNally?" He asked, looking between the assembled officers.

"I am," Andy said, raising a timid hand.

The surgeon looked at her. "Officer Swarek," he paused, his lips quirking into a half smile, "Made it very clear, in no uncertain terms, that you should be allowed back to see him. I think he might have scared some of my nurses." A quiet laughter rumbled through the group as they all imagined the conversation that must have taken place. "If you want," the surgeon said, "I'll take you back now."

Andy hesitated for a moment, she wasn't sure why exactly, but Oliver put a hand on her back, pushing her forward. With a flick of the wrist he instructed, "Go."

The doctor took her back and pointed her to one of the private rooms. "He's right in there."

Andy entered the room cautiously, taking a deep breath when she saw him. Sam's eyes were closed and she didn't think that he heard her come in so she stood at the door, quietly inspecting him from afar. His arm was in a sling and wrapped with some sort of dressing and he was hooked up to machines and IVs. The persistent beep of the heart rate monitor was reassuring, in an odd way.

She was most struck by how fragile he seemed lying there in the hospital bed. Normally he looked so strong and commanding, like nothing could touch him.

Her musings were cut off by a hoarse whisper. "Nice pants."

Her eyes flew up to meet his and she found him looking at her with bleary, unfocused eyes.

Andy looked down at herself and smiled, her face flushing. After getting Boyd's call she had frantically grabbed the nearest items of clothing, which meant that underneath her coat, which she had kept on, she was still wearing his t-shirt and her plaid pajama pants. "Well," she replied, "I remembered you have a thing for flannel."

He just grinned at her and then asked gruffly, "Why are you all the way over there?"

She shrugged and bit her lip, nervously shuffling from one foot to the other. "Thought you might want some space.

"Ah," he replied, understanding. He remembered the conversation they'd had following Callaghan's shooting when he had advised Andy to just give the guy some space. Gingerly, he maneuvered himself to the side of the small bed. He waved his hand, motioning her over. "I don't want space."

It was all the invitation that Andy needed. She crossed the room and sat on the bed next to Sam, wrapping her arms around him as best she could. He let her hug him for a moment before grimacing and reminding her, "Okay, okay, broken ribs."

She pulled back quickly wearing an expression of horror, "I'm so sorry! Did I hurt you?"

"No, no," Sam told her, settling his hand on her hip. "It's fine."

Andy ran her hand up his good arm before cupping it around his jaw. He turned his head and pressed a kiss against her palm, making her smile. "Are you in much pain?"

Sam was about to lie to her but she raised an eyebrow, clearly warning him not to, so he admitted, "A little. Mostly just sore though. Whatever medicine they've got me on is good stuff."

Andy nodded and then leaned forward, careful not to push any added pressure on his chest, and pressed her lips against his in a sweet, gentle kiss.

When she pulled back he winked at her, "That's the best kind of medicine there is."

Andy rolled her eyes. Not even an hour out of surgery and he was already back to charming her. She looked him over carefully and then, seemingly out of nowhere, punched his good arm.

"Ow!" Sam exclaimed, more in disbelief than pain. "What the hell was that for?"

"For scaring me half to death, you jackass," Andy yelled, sitting up straighter on the bed. "I told you that you would get hurt helping Boyd."

"I really don't think now is the best time to play 'I told you so', McNally," Sam said, reminding her, "I did just get out of surgery."

"I know, I'm sorry, I was just…" In her frustration, she wanted to hit him again, but refrained. Quietly, she admitted, "I was really worried about you."

Sam smiled at the confession. "Yeah?"

She nodded. "Boyd called me and I ran out of the house so fast I didn't even think to put a bra on."

"Oh really?" Sam asked, grinning and raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah," Andy said, ignoring the innuendo in his voice, "And I got to tell you, hugging my staff sergeant without a bra on is not something I ever wanted to experience."

"Frank's out there?"

Andy nodded, "And Oliver and Boyd. They probably want to see you."

Sam shrugged, "They can wait." He tugged on her hand, and she willingly let him pull her down beside him. She stretched her legs out on the small bed and then curled against his side, carefully resting her head against his shoulder.

After the emotional night, Andy was more grateful than ever to be in the comfort and safety of Sam's arms. She sighed and placed her hand on his chest, trailing her fingers through the hair there. "I'm sorry," she said quietly, in almost a whisper.

"What for?" Sam asked. "It wasn't your fault."

She shook her head, "Not that. About earlier. The fight."

"People fight, Andy," Sam said, "It's going to be okay."

She pushed herself up to look at him. "I want you to know something." He raised an eyebrow, gently encouraging her to continue. "I don't know if I would still be with Luke or not, if he hadn't slept with Jo," she admitted honestly, her voice shaking. "But I do know that there's no one I'd rather be with than you."

Sam's eyes were soft as he smiled at her. "I don't want to be with anyone but you, either," he admitted, brushing his lips over hers.

"Good to know," Andy replied sweetly, kissing him once more before settling back down beside him. She took a deep breath and added, "And I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye. I heard you leave but I just… pretended to be asleep."

"I knew you were awake," Sam told her quietly, his voice holding no accusation.

She looked up at him, "How?"

Sam smirked at her. "You're not as good of a faker as you think, McNally."

"Oh really?"

Sam just nodded and then smiled. "It's okay. I figured you were still upset."

"I was," Andy said, "But that seems like a really stupid reason now." She paused, running her fingers up and down his forearm, "I can't even imagine if you had been…" she shook her head, unable to finish the sentence. "If it had been more serious."

"Hey," Sam said, getting her attention. "I'm going to be fine. We're going to be fine."

"I know," She nodded, feeling tears prickle her eyes. "I gotta say though, this was a hell of a way to win an argument."

"So you're saying I won the argument?" Sam asked, surprised.

"Well for the short term at least," Andy said, laughing as she wiped her fingers her eyes. "Someone's going to have to take care of you."

Sam cleared his throat. "And the for long term?"

Andy looked at him seriously. "I had a long time to think about it," she said, "And I think I've come up with a pretty good compromise."

"I can't wait to hear it," Sam told her, yawning.

She realized how exhausted he must have been and knew it wasn't the best time to discuss important decisions related to their future. "Can we talk about it later?" She asked, "When you're not doped up on heavy painkillers?"

Sam just nodded in agreement. There were still issues that needed to be discussed and hurts that needed to be mended, but none of it seemed that important right then.

"Let's get back to this no bra thing," he said, running his fingers down the buttons of her coat.

She quirked an eyebrow. "Really?" She asked, skeptically. "You're still thinking about that?"

"I'm injured," Sam reminded her, "Not dead."

She giggled and slapped his hands away. "And we're in hospital room where anyone could walk in at any minute. Including our boss."

"Just take your jacket off," he said, frowning. "Come on."

She shook her head, refusing, but when he whispered, "Please," and looked at her with those brown eyes of his, she relented.

"Fine," she groaned, standing up to slip off her coat. He grinned appreciatively at her and then beckoned her back to him. She climbed onto the bed and covered them with her coat, effectively hiding his very wandering hands from anyone who might walk in. As she settled back in next to him, she said, "I have a confession to make."

"What's that?" Sam asked, not fully paying attention to what she was saying.

"I hit Boyd," she admitted, wincing. "A couple of times actually."

Sam chuckled. "You did?"

"I did," Andy replied, trying her best to act ashamed. "Oliver had to pull me away from him."

"Wow," Sam said, drawing the word out. "Why?"

Andy sighed and rolled her eyes, "Because he's an idiot who almost got you killed."

Sam just nodded, his reactions slowed by the medicine he was on. After a moment he grinned widely and asked, "So how was it?"

Andy shrugged and failed to hold back her satisfied grin. "It felt pretty good."

"I'm glad," Sam said, laughing heartily. "I wish I could have seen it."

They stayed huddled together for a few more minutes until a nurse came in and told him that Sarah had arrived. There could only be one visitor at a time, so Andy reluctantly left his side and pulled her coat on, promising him she would be back.

Sam was released from the hospital a day later with a prescription for painkillers and orders for physical therapy and rest. As Andy suspected, the physical therapy part was easier to get him to do than the rest part.

Not being able to go to work and not being able to do… other things, was starting to take its toll on Sam. One afternoon, as she was cleaning up the kitchen, he came up behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist, planting sloppy kisses down her neck.

"Sam!" She gasped, surprised by his presence. She turned around to look at him and said sternly, "You're supposed to be taking a nap!"

"I'm not a five year old McNally," he said, ignoring her look of consternation. "I don't want to take a nap."

"Well you certainly sound like a five year old," she replied as she backed away from him and went back to what she was doing.

He sighed, frustrated, and leaned against the counter. "Come take the nap with me," he said petulantly, trying another tactic.

She cut her eyes over to him, willing to do what he asked but obviously skeptical of his motives. "Will you actually sleep if I go in there?"

He grinned and, taking the opening, moved over to her again, blocking her in against one of the counters. "I'm not making any promises," he said, reaching up to twirl her hair through his fingers.

"Forget it, Sam. You heard what the doctor said," She warned, a hand on his chest to keep him from getting any closer to her. "No exertion. And you're not supposed to put any weight on your arm."

"Who says I'm going to put weight on my arm?" Sam asked, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. "We can be creative. Come on, it'll be fun."

"No," she said sharply, darting around him before he could stop her.

"Damn it, McNally," Sam exclaimed, giving up on trying to woo her, "Why won't you just have sex with me?"

"Because," she replied easily, "You were shot four days ago, you have two broken ribs and a bullet hole in your arm. You don't need to get your blood pressure up. It's not good for you."

"You know what's not good for me?" Sam retorted irritably, raising his voice. "You flitting around here and taking care of me like my own personal hot little nurse and then not letting me participate in the fantasy." Andy tried not to smile, but she couldn't help but find his obvious frustration amusing. "Don't look at me like that," he finished. "It's not funny."

"It is a little funny," she said, taking pity on him and sidling back up next to him, resting her hands on his chest. "It's not like I enjoy it either Sam…"

"Good," Sam concluded, cutting her off. "You don't enjoy it, I don't enjoy it. Let's go have sex."

Andy exhaled heavily and Sam grinned when he realized she was actually considering it.

"You know you want to," he prodded. He dipped his head down to trace his tongue along the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine, and whispered huskily, "You miss me, admit it."

Andy rolled her eyes and groaned. "Fine," she conceded, giggling as he quickly grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards the bedroom. "But I'm on top."

"Well only if you insist," Sam agreed sarcastically, shutting the door behind them.

A week later, Oliver was helping Sam carry boxes into Andy's new apartment. As part of the compromise she and Sam had agreed to, Andy still planned to move into the apartment, but she only signed a three-month lease, the shortest time period allowed.

"So," Oliver said, huffing as he made his way up the stairs, "Explain the purpose of this to me again."

"Purpose of what?" Sam asked, carefully navigating around the stacks of boxes outside of her door.

"Andy having her own apartment," Oliver clarified. "Seems a little unnecessary."

"That's what I said," Sam told him. "But for some reason she thinks it's important."

Oliver dropped the box he was carrying in the living room. "Why are you going along with it?" He asked, scratching his stomach.

"I don't know man," Sam said, sighing as he set down a smaller box. "I'm just doing what I'm told so she'll let me see her naked every once and awhile."

Oliver clapped his friend on the back. "It's like you're already married," he said mockingly.

Andy came out of the back room and put her hands on her hips. "Oliver!" She scolded, "You weren't supposed to let him carry anything heavy."

Oliver held his hands up innocently, "I tried to tell him, but he didn't listen. You know how stubborn he can be."

Andy pointed her finger at Sam as she made her way out of the apartment, "I'm serious Sam. Nothing heavy. Pillows, towels, that kind of thing."

Oliver watched Andy leave and then turned back to Sam, grinning knowingly.

"Whatever," Sam said, shrugging it off. "She nagged me before we got together."

"You are whipped, my brother," Oliver taunted. "Ball and chain."

"Oh yeah?" Sam responded smoothly, "How was that concert the other night?"

Oliver's smile immediately fell from his face. "How'd you know about that?"

"Tell me something, I've always wondered," Sam said, folding his arms over his chest and looking at his friend intently. He was serious for a moment and then grinned, "Is Justin Bieber as little in person as he seems on TV?"

"Shut up."


	14. Epilogue

Author's Note: Thank you, so much, to everyone that has reviewed, favorited and alerted this story. I've loved writing it and I'm so glad to know others have enjoyed reading it. So, again, thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Rookie Blue.

* * *

><p>"I feel like we just did this," Sam said.<p>

Andy remained quiet, smiling good-naturedly at his grumbling.

"Yep, I'm pretty sure I carried this exact box not even three months ago," he continued. "Was it ever even unpacked?"

Andy ignored his question. "That box is full of dishes. You better not have carried it three months ago since I specifically told you not to carry the dishes."

"Maybe I did, maybe I didn't," Sam said, "Doesn't change the fact that it sat in your kitchen still packed up for almost three whole months."

It was true. As adamant as Andy had been about getting her own apartment, she had never even taken the time to unpack most of her things. She could count on one hand the number of times she had actually slept in her apartment, and the majority of those times Sam was with her.

There was only once when she had slept there by herself, when Sam had to stay late to work on something with Jerry and she'd crashed at her apartment because it was marginally closer to the station. The next morning she realized that everything she needed to get ready was at Sam's, so she had sheepishly called him to come get her.

"What do you want me to say, Sam?" Andy asked, dropping the box that she was carrying and walking over to him. "You were right?"

Sam caught her around the waist and pulled her towards him. "That'd be great actually. I'd love to hear you say that."

She smiled, humoring him. "You were right."

"About what?" He prodded, grinning down at her.

She kissed him quickly and then backed away. "Don't push your luck," she warned, pointing a freshly unpacked fork at him before putting it away in the utensil drawer.

"You should just sell those dishes anyway," Sam told her as he ripped the tape from the box. "We don't need them."

"No way," Andy argued, "My dishes are way better than yours. We should sell your dishes."

"You mean your dishes are way girlier than mine," Sam said, pulling a plate out. He held it up and inspected it. "They have polka dots on them, Andy, polka dots."

"So what? They're cute," Andy claimed.

"Well, I had to sell my house," Sam lamented. "My almost paid-off house. I should at least be able to keep my dishes."

"Okay, you didn't have to sell your house," Andy reminded him, her hands on her hips, "You said you were fine with it."

At some point during Andy's three-month lease, the idea of purchasing a home together had come up.

"I have a house," Sam tried to tell her as they were lying together before going to sleep. "You can just move in here."

"Yeah," Andy acknowledged, "But it's your house, with your stuff. When I lived with Luke, even though the house was in both our names, it was still his house and his stuff. I hated it."

"So get rid of all my stuff and move your stuff in," Sam said, twirling her hair through his fingers. "I don't care. Except my television. Don't get rid of my TV."

Andy rolled over so she could face him, intertwining her legs with his. "Think about it Sam," she said, her eyes bright, "It wouldn't be your place, it wouldn't be my place. It would be our place."

Sam was quiet, considering it. "The housing market sucks right now."

"Not in this neighborhood," Andy told him. "You could sell this place in a second."

He groaned and then said, "I'll do it on one condition."

"What's that?" Andy asked, grinning widely.

He smiled at her and then narrowed his eyes. "You get those ice blocks you call feet off of me," he said, swiftly untangling his legs from hers. "I swear to god McNally, it's like you soak 'em in cold water before you come to bed."

"I have poor circulation, Sam, you know that," Andy replied defensively.

"Well put some socks on or something," Sam grumbled.

"You warm them up so well though," Andy whined. Sam raised an eyebrow at her, unimpressed. "Fine," she huffed, throwing the covers off of her and climbing out of bed to grab a pair of socks from his dresser. She balanced on one foot as she pulled one on. "So you'll do it, though? You'll sell your house?"

"Is that really what you want?" Sam asked.

Andy nodded, stumbling slightly as she pulled the other sock on. "It is."

"You want us to buy a house together?" He clarified further.

She stood next to the bed. "I do."

He sighed and then pulled her down next to him, making her giggle as he rolled on top of her.

"Your arm," she reminded him. "Sam!"

"My arm's fine," he said dismissively, pushing himself up with his good arm to look down at her. He kissed her gently and then pointed out, "That's a big commitment."

She nodded, a slow smile spreading across her face as she tangled her fingers in his hair. "It is."

He held her gaze for another moment before leaning down to kiss her again. "Fine," he agreed with another heavy sigh. "Let's do it."

"Really?" She asked, her smile wide.

He nodded. "Really." Grinning he added, "You're lucky I love you McNally."

She froze. Despite the fact that their romantic relationship began because she heard him tell Luke that he loved her, it was the first time he had said the actual words to her.

"You love me?" She asked, looking up at him with wide eyes.

He shrugged and tilted his head. "Sometimes," he teased with a grin. "Most of the time." She narrowed her eyes at him, unamused, and he laughed before brushing his lips against hers and mumbling, "All the time."

She beamed up at him, her eyes watery, "I love you, too, Sam."

"I know you do," he said, kissing her slowly. When he pulled back and looked at her he groaned, rolling his eyes, "Oh, please don't cry, Andy."

She pushed him off of her and he fell beside her with a grunt. "Why do you always have to ruin the romance, huh? This is a big moment, just let me enjoy it, okay?"

He smiled, chagrined, and pulled her into his arms. "Okay, okay. I'm sorry."

She sighed and allowed him to pull her closer. "We're buying a house together," she said quietly, looking up at him.

"We are," He nodded.

"And you love me," she repeated.

"I do," he affirmed.

"And I love you."

Sam grinned. "Yes, you do."

She smiled happily and snuggled against his chest, enjoying the moment.

After a minute he broke the silence. "Seriously, I can feel your feet through your socks."

Andy slapped his arm and rolled over, grumbling underneath her breath.

"I'm kidding, I'm just kidding," he promised, moving across the bed the spoon her from behind. He nuzzled her neck and pressed a kiss against the skin there, whispering, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Andy replied, holding on to the arm that was wrapped tightly around her waist.

They spent about a month looking at apartments and townhomes in the city and had finally settled on one close to the station. Sam's house, as Andy had predicted, sold within two weeks of being on the market, so by the time Andy's lease ran out they were ready to move into their new home.

"I know," Sam replied, "And I am fine with it. I just really, really hate these dishes."

Andy rolled her eyes, "We can get rid of the dishes. But let's talk about what we want to do for dinner. I'm starving."

"Well," Sam said, opening the refrigerator and looking at the bare shelves. "We could go somewhere or we could get something delivered."

"Delivery," Andy replied quickly, "I don't want to go anywhere."

"Pizza or Chinese?" Sam asked, pulling out his phone.

"We had pizza last night," Andy reminded him.

Sam shrugged. "Chinese it is then," he decided.

He quickly called their order in and thirty minutes later they were sprawled out on their living room floor, finishing their meal.

"What's your fortune say?" Andy asked eagerly, propping herself up on her elbows and kicking her legs behind her.

Sam eyed her warily and then cracked open his cookie, pulling the fortune out. "Soon you will have a chance at a profitable transaction," he read.

"In bed," Andy finished for him. She thought for a moment and then laughed. "Sounds like you're gonna be my pimp."

"If I was your pimp it wouldn't be profitable," Sam told her, crunching on the cookie.

Andy's eyebrows raised and drew together, insulted. "Excuse me?"

"You were a terrible prostitute," Sam replied, reminding her of her first undercover detail.

"I had been a police officer all of two months," Andy argued. "It was my first time!"

"Yeah," Sam nodded sharply. "It showed. You looked like a nervous virgin the whole night."

Andy narrowed her eyes and recalled the story Oliver told at his birthday party. "At least I can tell the difference between a penis and a gun."

Sam clasped his hands up over his heart dramatically. "Oh, you wound me McNally." He ate the rest of his cookie and then looked at her. "Look, I'm not saying you're bad in bed…"

"Wow, just dig that hole a little deeper Sam," Andy interrupted him.

"I'm just saying you're not a good prostitute," Sam continued, ignoring her. "There's really nothing shameful about that."

"I'm sure if I had another chance I could do better," Andy claimed.

"No way." Sam dismissed the idea quickly.

"Why not?"

"Because there's no way I'm going to watch pervy johns try and pick you up all night," he said, picking up a half eaten carton of food and stabbing at it with his chopsticks. "It was bad enough the first time."

"Who says you'll get to watch?" Andy asked, raising an eyebrow. Sam just smirked at her, which she returned. "So you didn't like watching pervy johns try and pick me up?"

"Uh no," Sam admitted. "I didn't."

"We weren't even anything then," Andy reminded him.

Sam just shrugged and lifted the chopsticks to his mouth, taking another bite of rice.

Andy grinned at him. "You had a crush on me," she teased.

"I did not have a crush on you," he denied. "We're not in junior high."

"Yes you did," Andy maintained. "Come on, you said I was bad in bed. Admit it."

Sam looked at her and then sighed and rolled his eyes. "I may have had a crush on you," he admitted with a small smile. "And I did not say you were bad in bed. You're great in bed."

"I know," she grinned. "I just wanted to hear you say it."

"Did you hear the part where I said you were great in bed?"

"I did hear that," Andy said, nodding. "Thank you."

He stared at her a moment and then asked, perturbed, "Don't you want to say something in return?"

She looked at him innocently. "Like what?"

"Um," Sam said, setting down his food. "Like how I'm great in bed, too."

"Mmmm," Andy shook her head, pretending to have to think about it, "I don't know..." She laughed as Sam tackled her to the ground and rolled on top of her, tickling her ribcage. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding," she giggled breathlessly, pushing his hands away. "You're great."

He stopped tickling and hovered over her, bracing himself on his elbows. "Yeah?"

She nodded and framed his face with her hands. "The best."

He smiled and then dipped his head to brush his lips against hers. "I know," he said, smirking as he pulled back, "I just wanted to hear you say it."

She laughed and threaded her arms around his neck, happily kissing him again.

"What does your fortune say?" Sam asked, not moving from on top of her.

She maneuvered herself enough to pick up her cookie and then cracked it open, pulling the fortune out. She held it up between them so only she could read it.

"What's it say?" Sam asked when she laughed.

She grinned and turned it around, holding it in front of her face so he could read it too. After a moment she peered around it and asked, "Need me to read it for you?"

"Shut up," he said, pushing up slightly and squinting his eyes so he could make out the words.

Reading it, he chuckled and wiggled his hips. "Well, you did just say I was the best."

"Ew, don't be gross," Andy admonished, her brow furrowing. "It's poignant. This is a nice moment."

"You're right. It is a nice moment," he agreed, standing up and offering his hand to her. She took it and he pulled her up to her feet before quickly bending down and scooping her up into his arms, carrying her bridal style through the apartment.

"Sam!" She exclaimed delightedly. "Where are we going?"

"We're going to go find out if the fortune is true or not," he told her. "And I think we have a bedroom that needs christening."

Andy just laughed and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting the fortune flutter to the ground.

It read - _"The best is yet to come."_


End file.
